


Honeymooners, The

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Points of View, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-08
Updated: 2004-03-15
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:19:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12069906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: No, they are not married; itâ€™s just a title.  Brian and Justin go on a weekend retreat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

I can already tell that it’s going to be one of those weekends. We’re exactly nineteen minutes and thirty-one seconds into a ninety-minute drive and Brian’s already got his hand on my dick. Four minutes ago it was wedged between my legs and seven minutes before that it was innocently resting on my thigh. So we’d only been on the highway eight and half minutes before it began. That might be a record.

He hasn’t moved it yet, it’s just cupped snugly around me, but it’s only a matter of time. I look at the dashboard clock to mark the time then turn to face Brian. He’s driving, that look of concentration on his face. His eyes shift from the side mirror to the road ahead, to the rear-view mirror then back to the road. 

I lay my head back against the headrest and watch him drive. I like watching him. Always have.

Everything he does is interesting. Probably boring to everyone else, but not to me. Almost every sight of him has the potential to be a work of art. My first drawing of Brian ever was from watching him sleep and after he bought me the computer to help me draw, the first thing I drew on it was him. 

I was staring off into space, feeling sorry for myself about losing my ability to draw and he came out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He laid down on the bed, grabbed an apple and a knife and began cutting chunks off and eating them. He didn’t know I was watching him and I know what you’re thinking, ‘geez, he’s just eating an apple, what’s so special about that?’ Well, I can’t explain it, but it was a beautiful sight to me and I just had to draw it. On my new computer. The one that he’d bought for me.

I wish I could get to my sketchbook right now because I would really like to draw ‘this’ Brian. This new Brian. Happy, content, at peace Brian. There’s a different look about him now. Something about his face. It’s softer; the hard, cold, distant edges aren’t there anymore. I used to have to look really hard to see the real Brian, but now I don’t. It’s just right there, for all to see. No more hiding. He’s genuinely happy and it shows. 

Everything seems to be going really well for him. He runs his own agency now and I’m sure the freedom that gives him has a lot to do with it. But I also think it has something to do with the fact that he only lasted those eight and half minutes before he had to touch me. Me, the person that he calls his partner.

He starts rubbing my cock and I begin to harden under his palm. I shift my eyes off him and onto the dashboard clock. It’s now been twenty-three minutes since our trip began and I’m already thinking that I need to look for a rest area.

Brian’s been working hard, trying to drum up some clients and he found out about this one from the least likely of places. My mom. 

She told us about it one night when we were over at the condo for dinner. Yes, we go to Mom’s for dinner, once a week actually. Brian makes jokes about it, but he goes without much protest. Anything that is remotely considered a hetero or dyke-y thing to do, he can’t resist making fun of. That’s okay, I don’t mind and just laugh along with him. Only I’m not laughing at us doing these things, I’m laughing at how he reacts to us doing these things ‘cause I don’t think about them in the same context that he does. 

She’s my mom, she’s a great cooks, I want to visit her but I hate being away from Brian, so I want him to go with me. What’s the big deal about that? Besides, he likes getting a good meal too. It’s not like either one of us cooks and if it weren’t for the weekly meals at my mom’s and at Debbie’s, we’d be eating avocado and peanut butter sandwiches every night because we can’t really afford to eat out all the time. So why is that considered hetero or dyke-y? I mean, just because we’re gay doesn’t mean that we don’t want to eat. And everyone’s got a mom.

And what about when we go to Debbie’s house for brunch on Sundays? She’s like Brian’s mom, she cooks good and feeds us there too. But us going to Deb’s together doesn’t seem to bring out the snarky Brian like going to my mom’s does. I just don’t see the difference, is all I’m saying. 

So anyway, it seems another realtor in mom’s office mentioned that her and her husband had gone to this new place and how wonderful it was. They’d only found out about it because of a friend of a friend. Evidently this place was really great but they weren’t busy because they didn’t advertise, so no one knew it existed. The realtor friend was worried they’d go out of business from lack of income and she didn’t want that to happen since they’d enjoyed it so much. 

So mom mentioned it to us knowing Brian needed clients, and this was a prospect. You don’t turn away from prospects when you’re starting your own company. At least that’s what Brian says. He said it should be a good match and that was his pitch to get the meeting. 

“Very simple,” he told them, “you need an advertising campaign and I need clients. Match made in heaven, I’d say.” The owner liked his simple yet honest approach so they met for lunch.

It was agreed that before any contracts could be signed, or even before Brian could come up with any brilliant ideas, he would need to come for a visit and see what it was all about. So they invited him to his bring his wife and come up for the weekend. 

It’s a lover’s retreat, come to find out. A place that straight, married couples go to re-kindle the flames of their love life. If they were like us, they wouldn’t need to drive ninety miles north on Interstate 629… they could just go to the backroom of Babylon or some other place like that. Public, voyeuristic sex keeps our sex life fires burning pretty well, if you ask me. 

Of course, Brian, being the new Brian, intolerable of dishonesty and the straight view of family values told them right away that he didn’t have a wife, and that he was, in fact, gay. Brian said that Mr. Martin, that’s the owner, didn’t flinch at all and without missing a beat asked him if he had a ‘significant other’ then. Brian said he couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that, but told him, ‘Yes, but we like to say partner nowadays.’ Mr. Martin just responded with ‘Well great, bring your partner, then.’ That’s how come I’m tagging along.

Brian asked if they would accommodate gay couples at the retreat and he was assured that they would but they hadn’t as of yet and might need Brian’s guidance to making some adjustments. After Brian arched an eyebrow, Mr. Martin smiled and leaned in real close to whisper, ‘It’s a sex retreat with all the extras. I don’t know what those extras should be for gay couples.’ And well, Brian’s the expert on gay sex so Mr. Martin was definitely in good hands. 

So, Brian’s on a business trip really… to a sex retreat… with his partner. How lucky can one get? 

His rubbing and my thoughts of what possibly awaits us in another, um, fifty-five minutes now, makes my dick really, really hard, so I start smiling. He does too. He knows that I’m one big bundle of horniness right now. A whole weekend to do nothing but fuck. I can hardly wait to get started and since his hand is really working on me right now… I know that he wants to get the fuck-fest started already, too. But being the responsible driver that he is, he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. I start wiggling my hips underneath his hand and he pulls on the snap and zipper then slips his hand inside.

My hand starts moving towards him. I want to touch his dick because I want us to get off together.

“Nuh, uh, uh,” he says, stopping me from reaching my goal but never taking his eyes off the road. I huff my disgruntlement. I really hate this damn car.

I’m not allowed to touch him when he’s driving. It’s a new rule, because of this car. I used to give him blowjobs all the time when he had the jeep, but the jeep had more room so he could drive even with my face in his lap. But the ‘vette is smaller and the first time I tried, my hip knocked the gear stick into neutral and of course Brian freaked. If it had gone into reverse it could’ve damaged his precious classic. So no blowjobs while he’s driving anymore. 

That left only one alternative… hand jobs. I gave him one once after the ‘no blowjob’ rule went into effect but because I have this oral fixation thing, as Brian calls it, I couldn’t just jerk him off. I had to kiss him, lick his ear, suck on his neck and well, he almost crashed the car. So now he won’t let me near him when he’s driving. I guess that’s a compliment to my talents, but it still pisses me off. 

Of course, the rule doesn’t mean he can’t play with me; which is exactly why he is. And yes, I enjoy it, but I like being able to do stuff to him too.

“Brian,” I say in a throaty groan. And he knows. I want him to find a rest stop, pull over, anything because I need to touch him. 

Shit, this was supposed to be just a short drive. Why did he have to start this when he knows the rule? I’m about to go out of my mind. 

I leak with every stroke, and he rolls his palm over the top to slick his hand, which makes the next stroke more slippery, which makes it better so I leak again, and again he sweeps across the top. It’s this exquisite act of pleasure… the phenomenon of a Brian Kinney hand job. God, I want to touch him. 

I grab his arm with my left hand, the padded armrest on the door with my right, and I grip tightly, digging my fingers in. That makes him pick up speed. Oh, shit. I’m breathing hard and still watching him as he strokes me but when that all too familiar feeling of euphoria washes over me, I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath. The only thing that could make this kind of orgasm better is if his followed soon after… but because of the stupid rule and this damn ‘vette it doesn’t get to happen that way and I’m left to crest this wave all by myself. 

I reach for the towel that we keep under the seat for just such emergencies, clean myself up then toss it at him. It lands in his lap; he didn’t even try to catch it. I look up at him and he’s licking one finger with a smile on his face. He’s just doing it to taunt me because he knows it will. 

“That’s so unfair,” I tell him and he chuckles, holding his hand out to me. 

“Want some?” he innocently offers. Yeah, right. Asshole.

I nudge his hand away from my face, grab the towel and push it into his hand. I narrow my eyebrows at him but it’s for no reason really, he’s not looking at me, he’s still watching the road. But he still knows. He cleans off his hand, tosses the towel back to me then chuckles again. 

“We have all weekend, Sunshine. I’m sure that’s enough time for payback.” 

I backhand his arm playfully and we both laugh because we know... it’s definitely going to be one of those weekends. 

We ride the rest of the way in comfortable silence. I’m sure he’s thinking about work and possible ideas for the campaign; but me, I’m thinking about how I’m going to even the score once we get there.


	2. Honeymooners, The

The last thirty minutes breezes by in a flash and he veers off the interstate onto a two-lane highway. It’s just a few more miles through rolling hills and thick wooded trees when we see the billboard that says ‘turn here’ with a big red arrow just below it. It’s a dirt road and Brian starts grumbling something about just having had the car washed. The dirt road runs along the Ohio River and seems really peaceful and quiet.

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Brian muses with a smirk.

We are out in the middle of nowhere, that’s for sure, and I can tell as we weave the winding road of the entrance and up to the main building that the whole place is set up to be a romantic getaway type of retreat. Brian’s looking around, rolling his eyes and I suddenly realize that he’s getting very uncomfortable about the whole scene. It’s not exactly my cup of tea either but as long as I’m here with Brian, I could care a less what the scenery is like. But Brian… just the thought of romance-type stuff makes him squirm. Like if he enjoys any part of it, his dick might fall off or something. It’s one of his hang-ups and with a smirk on my face… I think I’ve found my payback. Yep, I’m gonna milk this for all it’s worth.

“Jesus, breeder central,” Brian says as he rolls to a stop, puts the car in park then turns off the ignition. 

“Well honey,” I tell him, trying not to grin. “Maybe this is just the atmosphere we need to make that baby we’ve been trying so hard for.”

Brian’s head turns towards me so fast, I’m surprised his neck didn’t pop. He glares at me with this disturbed look on his face and it’s really hard to keep a straight face. I tighten my stomach to hold the laugh inside.

“Don’t,” is all he says.

“Don’t what?” I ask innocently while batting my eyelashes at him.

“It’s not funny,” he says getting out of the car. As soon as he slams the door shut, I can’t hold it in any longer and I bust up laughing. 

I get myself together and get out of the car. He’s back by the trunk getting out our bags and he holds mine out for me to take, but I don’t; I just walk towards the entrance, completely ignoring him. I hear the trunk slam shut, loudly, and it gives me pause. Then I start to feel the daggers he’s shooting at the back of my head. Just as I’m saying ‘hi’ to the doorman, Brian catches up to me and a duffle bag gets shoved at me so hard that it knocks the wind out of me for a second. He mumbles ‘little shit’ as he walks by and I chuckle under my breath. Think maybe he’s getting just a little bit pissed?

While we’re at the front desk and they’re explaining everything to Brian, I’m standing next to him, smiling at him. He’s ignoring me, of course, as my punishment so I bump him with my hip. He doesn’t waiver at all. I bump him again and he pinches my side. Hard. So I don’t do it again. I’m worried now that he didn’t like me kidding around. Shit.

They tell him that Mr. Martin set aside the best suite for us and that it is the one that has all the bells and whistles so he’ll know exactly what the retreat has to offer. They give him a huge packet that contains all the brochures, menus, anything and everything about the place.

They tell us that there is so much ‘entertainment’ in the suites that we don’t even have to ever leave the room if we don’t want to. I really like that idea and smile, but Brian is still stoic and makes no gesture about it at all. They tell us to have a good time, with a wink, then a really cute guy in a suit comes around and says he’ll show us to our suite. As he leads and we follow, Brian bumps my hip and grins at me. Guess he’s not so pissed after all.

We’re led to a golf cart just outside the front doors, and the driver grabs our luggage to secure it to a padded bench-like thing on the back of the cart. Brian gets in the front passenger seat and wiggles his eyebrows at me as he does. I look back, yes the driver’s cute, and yes, he has a nice ass. Of course Brian sits up front. I roll my eyes and climb in the back.

He takes us through the winding sidewalks. Since everyone leaves their cars at the main building with the valet, there’s no need for roads through the property. That’s kind of neat and helps keep the romanticism of the place in tact. It’s naturally beautiful and really close to the river, too, so you can smell water and hear it flowing. I love that smell, that hint of mud and wet leaves… which doesn’t smell that great on its own… but it’s nature and it’s real so it connects differently in my brain and makes it pleasing. The sound of moving water is relaxing in its constant trickles... it’s telling me that it’s flowing someplace away from here, over rocks and tree stumps, around bends and sharp corners… it’s unstoppable and free. I love that too.

All along the river edge there’s a series of buildings tucked away and separated by tall trees and landscaping so in a way, each building is kind of secluded from all the others. They’re hard to describe because they’re all so different. I’m assuming because all the suites are different. 

It looks like we’ve approached our building because he circles the whole thing, going around by the river and then back up toward the main sidewalk before coming to a stop. I notice that there’s only one door on each of the four sides of the building and each door has a plaque beside it, but we’re too far away for me to read them. Each entryway surrounding each door is decorated differently…some Victorian style, some contemporary. So from each side of the building it looks like a totally separate house. And some do look like houses from their fronts. Others seem strange; no building style but the décor is themed. A pink one with a red door, pink and white roses. Some are two story, like ours, others are only flats. Our door seems to be a themed one. It’s blue and the landscaping surrounding it kind of looks like an aquarium with coral rocks, shells, seaweed and stuff. I’m really curious as to what our suite will look like from the inside now because the theme seems to be something about oceans.

He tells us that each building contains only four suites and each has its own private entrance and that no one should bother us. There isn’t anything to do here outside of our suite, and the only amenities that the place offers is one restaurant. He explains that people don’t come here to socialize and for the most part, use room service for food. That anything and everything we should need is already in the suite and if it’s not, then we just call and it will be provided. Brian and I steal a glance at each other and smile. We get the picture. My dick stirs. Can’t wait.

We file out of the golf cart, Mr. Cute Guy grabbing our overnight bags and leading the way to the door. When we get a little closer, I read the plaque by the door. Aquatic Honeymoon. I’m intrigued at what the apparent ‘aquatic’ part could mean for the amenities to the room, but the ‘honeymoon’ part…well, I’m not stupid. And neither is Brian. I turn to him with an arched eyebrow and grin my biggest grin.

“Don’t.” he says. I have to smirk at him.

“Here we are,” Cute Guy says, opening the door and going inside. Brian follows him. I stay outside, in the doorway…waiting. Brian’s going to kill me, but I just can’t resist.

Cute Guy takes our bags somewhere around on the other side of this wall. I don’t know what’s over there since I’m still outside and can’t see. He comes back into view but doesn’t give much of a tour of the suite. He says that we’ll figure it all out and that most people don’t like to be shown everything that’s in there. That the exploration of the place is part of the fun. He shakes Brian’s hand then puts the money that Brian palmed him into his pocket, walking toward me to leave, so I step to the side to let him out. 

“Have fun,” he says with a smile as he goes by. 

“Oh, I will,” I tell him with a smile of my own. 

Brian is off emptying his pockets onto the table. I wait.

When he realizes that I’m still outside, he turns toward me. “What?”

“You gonna carry me over the threshold?”

He narrows his eyes into a death glare…I gulp just for a second. “You’ve got two legs,” he says a little annoyed. Okay, maybe a lot annoyed.

I put on my best mock-pouty face, up the pitch in my voice and forge ahead. “But it’s our honeymoon, honey,” I whine.

“Ah,” Brian says, rolling his lips in to keep from grinning. He’s trying to keep his annoyed look, but he’s not really succeeding. I grin just as sweetly as I can.

He starts to approach me and I gulp again. He’s sporting a smirk on his face so I don’t know if he’s going to play along with my silliness and really pick me up or slam the door in my face. He gets just inches in front of me and smiles. God, he’s gorgeous and smells so good. I raise my eyebrows questioning his next move. 

He starts to speak, “The last time I checked, which was just a couple of hours ago…” 

He pauses for effect, straightens his face and grabs my dick in his hand, squeezing it and pushing the air out of my lungs. 

“…you had a dick between your legs,” he continues. He clutches it tighter and I gasp, but as usual, my cock has a mind of its own and wiggles in his hand. 

“Ahh, I see you still do,” he adds, commenting on my growing erection. He sticks his tongue in his cheek and practically lifts me off my feet by pulling me into the room by my dick, and ends up carrying me over the threshold the Brian Kinney way.

“Ow, ow, okay, okay,” I stammer, grabbing his arm and stumbling into the room on my toes. 

As soon as he has me clear of the doorway, he slams the door shut then the pull he had on me suddenly changes to a push and I find myself squished between him and the hard, cold metal of the door in a matter of seconds. He leans his chest against me to hold me in place, his hand still on my dick; only the grip’s not as tight. He’s massaging it firmly, but not harshly. My cock is against the palm of his hand, his thumb stroking against the crook of my leg and his long fingers kneading my balls, rolling them back and forth, back and forth. Oh, god. 

His hot breath washes over my face, I want him to kiss me. I’ve waited all afternoon and this seems as good a time as any. I mean, our faces are so close and all. I tilt my head up in invitation for him to take my mouth but he softly kisses my cheek instead, then gives me a long lick so close to my ear that I hear it’s bumpy texture brush across my skin. I accidentally let out a whimper. 

Damn, I didn’t mean to do that. He always knows when I’m putty in his hands and this makes it twice in one afternoon. I have to try to maintain some kind of control over my body. I mean, really. Am I that easy?

He huffs in my ear then drags his tongue across my face and along my bottom lip. I open my mouth a little and breathe into him. He nibbles my lip, sucks it into his mouth, tugging enough that when he backs away too far, it resists with a snap. Just like the rest of my body, my tongue is up and erect, waggling in the middle of my mouth; waiting for him. His grazes over my teeth so I touch it with mine and that’s all it takes… the kiss is underway. Finally.

I’m so horny right now, it doesn’t take long before I’m panting through my nose and humming into his mouth. I reach for his hips, hooking my fingers into his belt loops and pulling his body closer. He abruptly ends the kiss and backs away, leaving me standing there with my mouth still open and my eyes still closed. When I open them, I find him looking at me with a satisfied smile on his face. He puts his hand on my cheek and lightly slaps against it three times as if to say ‘good boy’ or ‘there, there’ or some shit like that. Whatever. 

Then he turns and walks away. Oh yeah? I don’t think so.


	3. Honeymooners, The

Chapter 3: The Waterbed  
Bare-Necessities of Life  
Rated: NC-17

 

“You’re gonna pay for that,” I warn. His slow strides away from me pick up  
speed and he disappears quickly around the same corner that Mr. Cute Guy had  
gone with our bags. ‘He can run but he can’t hide,’ I think to myself and I go  
after him, full speed ahead. I round the corner and he’s right there. I  
approach and push him down onto the bed then catch, out of the corner of my eye,  
a huge, and I mean huge, TV.

 

“Holy shit!” I exclaim, forgetting all about paybacks and pushing Brian on the  
bed. I’ve never seen a TV this big. It’s flat against the wall, like a huge  
painting, and it covers damn near the entire thing. It draws me to it,  
distracts me. I want to turn it on so I’m frantic trying to find the remote.  
It’s not on the nightstand; there are no buttons on it. “How the fuck do you  
turn it on?” I mumble, talking to myself, which is obvious since Brian doesn’t  
answer me anyhow. I see a set of eight switches on the wall and I go.

 

I flip the first one and the light goes on; I turn it off… its still daylight,  
we don’t need it. I turn on the second one and lights go on again, but this  
time it’s to the left of me instead of overhead. I turn towards it. There’s a  
huge, and again, I mean huge, tub in the floor but up three steps. I rush over.  
“Holy shit!” A tub in the bedroom, how cool is that? It has these  
silver-faucet looking things in it and I become aware that it’s a whirlpool tub.  
I love water and have always wanted to fuck Brian in a tub, but since we only  
have a shower in the loft, well, we’ve just never done the tub thing before.  
And the baths… they don’t really have baths there. I was clearly disappointed  
the first time Brian took me there. Not that what they do have isn’t great, its  
just that I was thinking baths, as in real baths, and was geared up for some  
serious tub fucking... that’s not what I got. So yeah, I’m a little excited  
about this big bathtub.

 

“Brian,” I say, wanting to share my tub fucking thoughts with him as I’m turning  
around. He’s still on the bed and my mouth is open to talk but I suddenly stop.  
He’s rocking, swaying almost, back and forth, side to side, and he’s smiling.

 

“Justin, come over here,” he tells me, motioning with his hand for me to come to  
him. My dick stirs at the sight of him and as if hypnotized by his slow  
rocking, I go. I crawl up on the bed on my hands and knees. My hands sink  
down into the bed and his body jostles around.

 

I don’t move again, but I smile and he smiles back. “A waterbed?” I ask,  
already knowing the answer.

 

“Uh huh,” he answers needlessly. He motions again with his hand. I crawl  
closer, a little more rambunctiously than I should’ve, not knowing how waterbeds  
are. I haven’t had sex on one before. Hell, I haven’t even slept on one  
before. My movements cause these waves in the water under the heavy duvet and  
they pretty much toss me into his arms; which bounces him on top of me.

 

“Slick move,” he smirks, knowing full well by the look of shock on my face that  
it was purely accidental, but I play it up anyway.

 

“Well, you always said I was a natural.”

 

“And full of yourself,” he adds, running his fingers through my hair, brushing  
it back and combing it off my forehead. I smile at his comment, but his hand  
and what he’s doing to my hair makes me close my eyes and sigh as the tingles  
run down my back.

 

I love it when he does that and now I really want him. “I’d rather be full of  
you,” I say in a deep, throaty voice, making him growl which goes straight to my  
dick. He kisses my neck and growls again, sending tiny electrified vibrations  
tickling against my skin. It feels so good all over and I arch my back, pushing  
my chest into his, rubbing our growing erections together, and making more waves  
that rock us against each other.

 

He nips at my neck and dots kisses across my face until he reaches my mouth. He  
doesn’t even have to push in for entrance; my mouth is open and waiting for his  
to get there. Our tongues dance and play in the lingering kiss for what seems  
like an eternity, and even though I’m ready to move on to other things, when he  
breaks away for air, I still groan. I can’t help it. I really love kissing  
him.

 

He begins tugging on the bottom of my t-shirt, lifting it up to expose my  
stomach, and kissing me all over. I take it from his hands and use the buck of  
the waves to pull it over my head as the bed bounces me upwards. He bites on my  
nipples and I arch again, digging my heels into the ocean beneath me as my back  
rises up. That little pinch you get when teeth come together to squeeze your  
hard nipple between them always drives me wild.

 

I reach down and grab Brian’s shirt, walking my fingers across his back,  
gathering more and more fabric and wadding it in my hands to get a good hold.  
As he moves further down my body, kissing and licking as he goes, he slides out  
from inside his shirt at the same time. We really do have our movements down  
pat. With both our chests bare, he rubs his hands up and down and all around  
the front of me and I do the same to him.

 

Brian drags his hand down my body as he gets up on his knees then reaches for  
the waistband of my pants. The bed sloshes against him, knocking him off  
balance and throwing him forward. I put up my knees to catch him and he falls  
against them. We both laugh up a storm realizing that the shifting water  
underneath our bodies isn’t going to behave like our firm mattress at home, so  
we’re going to have to adjust our movements.

 

Then suddenly Brian straightens his face and jumps off the bed. I gasp as a  
slight panicky feeling rushes through me, thinking that he’s giving up on our  
little adventure on the waterbed. But when he starts undoing his pants and  
pushing them over his ass, I relax, grinning at him and I move to get my ass in  
gear. I hurriedly pull on my snap and tug on my zipper then push my pants down  
to my knees. I kick my legs frantically, trying to get them off the rest of the  
way. The bed is really rocking now from all my kicks and it’s tossing me around  
a bit. With my pants on my feet, the last hard kick sends them sailing through  
the air right towards Brian. His hand goes up and he catches them.

 

“Slick move,” I say repeating his earlier words. He huffs at me and drops them  
on the floor. “Hurry up,” I tell him, grabbing my aching dick and stroking it.

 

He snorts and growls, watching me as he steps out of his pants, leaning over to  
pull them off his foot. He reaches into his pocket and comes up empty handed.  
We’re smiling at each other in anticipation. “Hurry,” I urge him again.

 

He digs into the other one, and again, his hand reappears empty. “Shit!” he  
yells out.

 

This can only mean one thing and that slight panic attack I had just moments ago  
returns. My chest tightens…I can’t breathe. “Brian, you didn’t.” I’m hoping,  
I’m praying…please let him be teasing me.

 

He looks at me. Pitiful, defeated, beaten. My stomach flops. I think I’m  
getting seasick.

 

“Did you?” he asks.

 

Oh, god. This can’t be happening. My dick softens. It knows. Noooo!!

 

“No way!” I say in disbelief.

 

Brian grabs the front of his hair, pulling it into his fists. Oh, shit.

 

I can’t fucking believe this…we go away for a weekend of nothing but fucking and  
neither one of us packs condoms. I guess we really needed this little getaway  
because we are obviously losing it big time to have forgotten such an important,  
vital, essential, fundamental necessity in our lives. Brian NEVER goes anywhere  
without a handful of condoms, and since I met him, I don’t either. I cover my  
face with my hands. “No fucking way!”

 

Brian starts laughing and I want to smack him. This is sooo not funny. Yes,  
there’s other stuff we can do but come on, blowjobs and hand jobs and frottage  
are just the preambles to the main event or what you do when you can’t do the  
main event. We fuck. That’s what we do. We like it, damn it.

 

I personally don’t understand those guys that prefer dry humping. How can you  
have a fulfilling sex life if you never have a dick up your ass or you never  
stick your dick in someone else’s? It’s just not the same to Brian and me.  
Nothing beats fucking or getting fucked. Nothing. How did this fucking happen?

 

This just sucks and to quote Brian…not in a positive, life-affirming way. I  
grumble in frustration and kick my legs into the bed in anger.

 

“You horny little shit, would you stop queening out? You’re going to fucking  
pop the bed,” he barks at me. I know he’s not really mad at me; he’s frustrated  
too. But…

 

Horny little shit? That pisses me off. But he’s right about the bed so I stop.  
I pull my hands away from my face and look over at him. He’s pacing back and  
forth, one hand on his hip, the other on the back of his head, his hard dick  
bouncing in the air as he walks. If I wasn’t so disappointed and pissed, I’d be  
laughing at the sight in front of me. And he calls me a horny little shit? I’m  
obviously not the only one. Asshole.

 

When he paces though, I know he’s thinking, so I wait quietly. If he can solve  
this problem of ours and find a way to fuck me then the least I can do is keep  
my mouth shut while he thinks…but then I remember…

 

“Hey, Brian?”

 

“What?” he asks a little annoyed that I interrupted his train of thought.

 

“That guy said that everything we’d need is…” and as I say this he stops and  
looks at me then finishes my sentence with me, “…in the room.”

 

We both realize the implication at the same time and he darts to one nightstand  
table on one side of the bed. I crawl, or I should say I try to crawl, but  
after only two steps forward the bed starts doing it’s thing and I kind of flop  
the rest of the way to the other nightstand, landing face first into the pillow  
and having to scramble to lift myself up. I pull the drawer open in haste. I  
find nothing but a bible; so I slam it shut and quickly turn to Brian with hope  
that he’s more successful. ‘Please, please, please,’ I say under my breath.

 

He is.

 

Sort of.

 

Brian’s standing there with a disgusted look on his face, holding a light blue  
box. “Trojans,” he says, tossing the box on the bed then wiping his hands on  
the bedspread as if it was the grossest thing he’d ever touched.

 

I understand, but I giggle anyway. Trojans are cheap; Brian only uses the  
expensive kind. “Well, they’re better than nothing,” I say beaming with the  
thought that I’m going to get fucked. I snatch the box and open it greedily.

 

“They’re breeder condoms,” he says, wiggling his shoulders to shake off the  
thought.

 

I pull one out of the box and open it. “Come here,” I tell him reaching out to  
put it on him. He can flinch and gross out later, right now, he needs to just  
shut up and deal. I want his dick in my ass, and I mean, now.

 

He backs away. “No fucking way is that fucking condom going on MY dick,” he  
snips.

 

Geesh. Now who’s queening? But okay, if that’s what he says. “Fine,” I tell  
him. “I’m not picky, I’ll put it on mine then. Come here.”

 

He snorts. “If it’s not going on my dick, there’s no way in hell it’s going up  
my ass.”

 

Shit. Now I’m going to have to actually work to get fucked. What is the world  
coming to? I toss the opened one aside, move the box to the side of the bed,  
carefully climb out of the rocking boat and plant my two feet on solid ground to  
stand right in front of him.

 

“Brian,” I whisper in his ear, nibbling on his ear lobe. I know he loves that  
and he can never resist when I say his name. “Don’t you want to fuck me?” I ask  
as sexy as I can and I nibble some more.

 

“It’s not going to work, Justin,” he says defiantly, but I hear a twinge of lust  
in his voice and I feel him shiver, so I know better… it won’t take much more.  
I don’t know why he’s even trying to fight it. He’s already horny; hell, he  
already has a hard-on. Who’s he trying to kid anyhow?

 

“Brian,” I whisper again as I place his hands on my ass and rub my dick against  
his. I lick around his ear, suck on his neck then back to his ear. “I want you  
inside me, Brian.” I drag my tongue across his jaw and over his bottom lip.  
“Brian,” I say one more time for good measure then I kiss him hungrily.

 

His fingers squeeze my ass cheeks so I deepen the kiss and moan into his mouth  
while rocking my hips against him and rubbing our dicks together.

 

His fingers slide down my crack and wiggle in between my cheeks. I pull him  
closer to me, drive further with my tongue and moan again. His finger finds my  
hole and pushes in. Oh yeah, that’s what I wanted. He’s just so easy  
sometimes. I want to smile but I don’t want to break the kiss, it might break  
the spell along with it.

 

I keep kissing him and rubbing my dick against him. Widening my stance a  
little, allowing him to go deeper inside of me, I reach over to the box of  
condoms and pull one out. Tearing it open quietly behind his back, I gently tug  
it out of the wrapper. I back my hips away from him and grab his dick in one  
hand, softly stroking it and he groans at my touch. I break the kiss, leaving  
him panting and excited, and I kiss a trail across his face to his ear.

 

“Brian, fuck me,” I beg and slip the condom on him in one fluid motion. He  
gasps, realizing what I’ve done and I hold my breath at how he’s going to react.  
His fingers leave me. “Brian, please,” I beg some more, whispering directly  
into his ear with hot breath. His hands grip my shoulders and push me back away  
from him. “Brian,” I whimper as I’m pushed away from his ear. He moves my face  
directly in front of his and our eyes meet. He’s straight-faced; I can’t read  
anything on it. “Bri…” I start to say but stop when I see his lips curl up ever  
so slightly. I narrow my eyes in confusion.

 

He pushes me onto the bed and I bounce. “Like I didn’t know what you were  
doing,” he says. Then he snorts at me and I know. I smile then turn over on my  
hands and knees and scramble the best I can to the middle of the bed. He comes  
after me, shifting the water even more and I tumble forward… my face ending up  
in the comforter. I giggle as I push myself back up.

 

Once I get steady he grabs my ankles and in a split second, he’s flipped me over  
onto my back. “It’s easier this way,” he says. I nod in understanding. I  
can’t imagine that the hands and knees thing would work too well on a waterbed.  
My face can attest to that.

 

He crawls on top of me and sticks his fingers in my mouth. I get them good and  
wet. I’m so excited; I’m humming around them. I grab my dick and start  
stroking. He laughs. “In a hurry?” he asks pulling his fingers from my mouth.  
I start to answer but before I can, his fingers are pushing into me and all that  
comes out is a loud gasp, then I’m moaning like a fool.

 

He stretches and relaxes me quickly then he’s gone. I gasp again. He wraps my  
legs around his waist, and then, yes, finally, he’s pushing into me, and all I  
think of is yes, yes, yes, so that’s what I yell out. “Yes, yes, yes!”

 

He sets a rhythm quickly and every time he moves, I feel like I’m on a boat,  
thrashing against the tumultuous waves at high tide. I let go of my dick, grab  
his shoulders and tighten my legs to buck up against him, wanting to meet his  
thrusts, but I find myself falling back into the rippling waves and losing all  
semblance of control. I try again and the same thing happens. So I give up and  
just lie back, giving Brian control of our movements and just let him take me  
there.

 

He pulls back a little and I groan. He grabs my legs and moves them to his  
shoulders then pushes back in. “Oh, yeah,” I mewl as he dives deeper inside me.  
He leans forward and we start kissing… or gnawing, actually. It’s more  
hungered than just kissing. His hard, taut abdomen is rubbing my cock and my  
balls with every thrust and rapidly bringing me close to the edge.

 

I can’t decide if I like the waterbed or not; it’s kind of strange… different.  
A hard, passionate fuck but not very fast. When he speeds up, the motion of the  
bed works against us so he slows back down and uses the effect of the tumbling  
water to roll me upwards as he thrusts down. It’s working and I’m about to cum,  
but it’s not very controlled. The water does as it wants, so we have this sense  
of wildness and craziness. It’s kind of hot.

 

He pulls away from the kiss and pants in my face. I know he’s close. I grip  
his head and pull him closer, tightening his belly against me. His hot breath  
in my ear is setting me on fire. “Justin,” he breathes into me.

 

“Oh, god,” slips out of my mouth as my orgasm marches through my balls and out  
my slit, slicking his stomach. My hands clench in his hair as I ride it out,  
tightening my ass around his cock, and bringing him with me. “Brian,” I say as  
I release his hair and wrap my arms around him so tightly that it makes his arms  
slide out from holding him up and he falls on top of me as he shoots. I don’t  
know if it’s the difference in the condom or what, but the normal heat I feel in  
my ass when his cum fills the condom isn’t there so the only way that I know  
he’s done is when the slight muscle spasms subside and his body quits  
convulsing.

 

“Hrmpf,” he grunts in my ear. My thoughts exactly and I grin. I squeeze my  
arms and my legs around him and hug him tight.

 

“That was great,” I say. “I really needed that.”

 

He pushes against my arms and legs so I release him and he pulls out quickly  
then flops on his back, bouncing me and rolling me to my side right next to him.  
He chuckles. “Yeah, great,” he agrees. Then he raises one eyebrow and adds,  
“Even with this nasty condom. Get it off me.”

 

I laugh. “You’re such a label queen, Brian,” I scold him, but just to appease  
him I pull it off of him then toss it on the floor, deciding that I’ll pick it  
up later. Right now, I just want to lay here, with Brian, in silence, like we  
always do, with my head on his chest listening to his rapidly pounding heart  
beat get slower and softer as his body calms. His arm is around me and his  
fingers are drawing circles on my shoulder. It’s so relaxing, so  
comfortable…this silence after sex where there’s no need for words. No words  
could be better than this silence.


	4. Honeymooners, The

Chapter 4: The Suite  
Recapturing My Youth I  
Rated: PG-13

 

Several minutes go by and his heart rate steadies, his hand stops moving and he  
starts making this wheezing sound. I raise my head to look at him and his hand  
plops on the bed behind me. He’s asleep, but I’m not angry or pissed or  
perturbed. It’s nice. He’s still so absolutely gorgeous and I wonder if I’ll  
ever stop thinking that. I seriously doubt it.

 

Brian didn’t used to sleep much. I don’t really know why. I’ve thought about  
it. Too busy partying, too much stress at work, too much something…or maybe not  
enough of something else. But nowadays, he sleeps more. I hope that’s a sign  
of happiness and contentment and not that I completely bore him.

 

I lay my head back down and try to go to sleep too, but the big screen TV  
catches my eye and I realize that we haven’t explored our suite yet. What we’ve  
seen so far is only a huge tub and a waterbed; hardly enough for the room to  
earn its name so I think there must be more to it. My curiosity gets the better  
of me so I decide to forego taking a nap and go check things out while Brian  
rests. I plan on making sure that he needs it.

 

I carefully inch my way to the edge of the bed, trying hard not to slosh the  
water and wake him up, but it’s easier said then done and the bed starts rocking  
him gently. I freeze to calm the water with one leg off and one leg on and he  
rolls over onto his side.

 

It’s funny how Brian sleeps, or I guess not funny. Maybe sweet is a better  
word, even though that’s a word that would earn me a ‘Brian death-glare’ if he  
ever heard me use it to describe him. But that’s what it is really. When I’m  
in bed with him, he sleeps flat on his back and I’m usually right along side  
him, my head on his chest, my arm draped across his stomach and my top leg bent  
on top of his. But when I’m not in the bed with him, he sleeps on his side, his  
legs drawn up and his arms are either tucked under his head or between his legs,  
similar to how they are right now. It’s like he curls up with himself when I’m  
not there. He complains that I crowd him, but I know that’s not true because if  
I roll away from him, he rolls too and spoons up behind me, pressing his hand  
firmly on my stomach and pulling me closer to him. He can grumble all he wants,  
but I know he doesn’t like sleeping alone. At least not anymore. It’s sweet  
and looking at him all curled up because I’m  
not lying beside him makes me smile.

 

But now I’m stuck and my leg is starting to quiver at the strain. I have to  
move. I decide to just go for it so I grab the wooden frame that surrounds the  
bed and pull myself up as quickly as I can. The bed swells underneath him from  
my weight on the end then ripples back only joggling him a little. He doesn’t  
move. I grab the duvet from the other side and toss it over him. He is naked  
after all and I wouldn’t want him to catch a cold.

 

I dig into my bag, grab a pair of sweats and put them on while looking around  
the room. There’s the big tub which we’ll definitely be using later whether  
Brian likes it or not, the waterbed, the two nightstands that housed the condoms  
and I pause… making a mental note to call the front desk and ask for a more  
Brian-appropriate brand. They did say to call if there was anything we needed;  
I’m assuming better condoms count as a need.

 

There’s not much else in the room except a built-in cabinet right next to the  
huge screen. I’m thinking entertainment center to compliment the big TV so I  
quietly open the doors. I was right…state of the art everything. DVD player,  
VCR, sound system, you name it; it’s in there. There’s a bunch of DVDs as well.  
All the regular Hollywood hits. Current titles too. I’m impressed. But then  
a naked hard body catches my eye on the far left side of the row of movies. I  
pull it out. Naked hard body for sure, its porn. Jeff Stryker porn. I flip it  
over and my dick twitches. Jeff Stryker GAY porn. Holy shit. I grab another  
one and another one. There’s three. All Jeff Stryker.

 

I laugh. I guess Mr. Martin was trying to show Mr. Kinney and his partner that  
he would, indeed, attempt to accommodate same sex couples at his retreat. There  
are thousands, no, probably millions of gay porn movies on the market, but what  
gets placed in our suite are three all starring the same guy. A guy that also  
does straight porn. I guess it makes sense, if a breeder were to know anything  
about who stars in our movies, it would be him… he’s practically a household  
name. Gay or straight. I put it back. Something else we’ll be doing later.

 

I walk out of the bedroom doorway and notice a railing. It runs the entire  
length of the whole suite. I know we came in through the door behind me and  
that was on the ground floor but this railing clearly means there’s a downstairs  
so the ground must slope on the backside that’s closer to the river. It appears  
that the kitchen and bedroom areas are set up like part of an upstairs loft. I  
go to the railing and look over. Oh my god!!

 

I have to try to contain myself to keep from squealing like a schoolgirl and  
waking up the sleeping giant that is now loudly sawing logs. I roll my eyes and  
run to one end frantic to find some stairs. There are trees, palm trees, down  
below and they are tall enough to hang over the railing up here. So I’m batting  
away leaves as I go. I get to the end of the row of trees and I find a way down  
alright. It’s a slide… jetting out from the huge tub that’s at the other end of  
the bedroom then slopes down and ends in a big kidney shaped swimming pool  
below. I can’t believe it. We have a fucking swimming pool in our room! We  
can skinny dip and everything. It’s so awesome, I’m almost overwhelmed, but I  
think I’m too excited to be.

 

I feel like a little kid again. I soooo want to jump on the slide and haul ass  
down it to splash into that pool. It’s so blue and I know it’s calling my name.  
I can hear it. But more mature heads prevail and I refrain from my childhood  
meanderings for the moment and decide to go scavenging for a more Brian-friendly  
way to get there. I follow the railing, dodging palm tree leaves towards the  
kitchen area and behind the kitchen wall; I find a winding staircase leading  
down. I run down the stairs and almost dive feet first into a bubbling hot tub  
that’s at the bottom of the stairs and as I look around, it’s right next to the  
pool!

 

I’m jumping up and down in silence and acting like Emmett. I like the Aquatic  
Honeymoon and I didn’t even have to ‘take the plunge’ as they say, to have one  
of my own. Aquatic, indeed…there’s water everywhere. I love water sports. Not  
that kind…this kind. Well, not this kind…the sex kind. Oh never mind, let’s  
just say I love having sex with Brian in the shower and this has the potential  
to be ten times, no, a hundred times better.

 

There’s two doors on the other side. I run around the hot tub and swing one  
open. A small bathroom with plush, white, heavy robes hanging on hooks on the  
wall and more towels than I care to count on a shelving unit just below them. I  
push off my sweats and grab one of the robes. It’s so soft and comfy; better  
than that robe I swiped out of the hotel in New York City. They charged Brian’s  
credit card two hundred dollars for that thing. Took me like a month’s worth of  
working my ass off at the diner to pay him back for that alone.

 

I grab a towel and leave the bathroom, heading towards the other door. And  
what’s behind door number two? I swing the door open. A sauna! Yee haw. I  
turn on all the switches and there’s a bunch. Red lights go on and shine  
against the wooden benches that line the walls. It’s kind of eerie and  
reminiscent of a cave or the inside of a volcano, not that I’d know, but that’s  
what it reminds me of. A fine mist is spraying out from overhead. Brian’s  
gonna love this. I’ve never fucked in a sauna before. Hell, ‘I’m’ gonna love  
this.

 

This is starting to feel like my birthday or something. The kind of birthdays  
that my mom planned for me when I was kid, well except for the fucking part,  
that’s more like the Brian Kinney kind of birthdays. I shiver at that thought.  
We won’t go there again.

 

The sound of trickling water catches my attention so I run back by the pool in  
search of the noise. And there it is, something I’m surprised I didn’t notice  
when I looked over the railing from upstairs. A circled curtain of water  
showering down into the pool from the ceiling above. Our own little version of  
summer rain. How fucking hot is that? I can’t hold out any longer, I have to  
start partaking in some this splendor before I go out of my mind.

 

I toss the towel by the steps of the pool and run back upstairs, along the  
railing, past the trees, ‘til I reach the slide. Yeah, this is the way in.  
Heee! I take off my robe and lean over the railing, dropping it on the ground  
down below. I hoist myself onto the slide and feel grateful that they’ve waxed  
it ‘cause I’m going down bare-assed. I push off and as hard as I try to keep  
quiet, I can’t. A scream of glee escapes my throat on the way down and I make  
one hell of a splash when I hit the water.

 

I haven’t swam in so long. The water’s warm and feels so great. I make it all  
the way to the other end of the pool underwater before I come up for air. I  
push off the side and I swim only a few laps at full speed before I get tired.  
I’m so out of shape, though I’d never tell Brian that. He’d be dragging my ass  
to the gym and I’m not ready to start that shit yet. I think I have a few more  
years before I have to worry about it. As long as I can out last Brian during  
our fuck fests, then I’m good to go. I mean, I’m not the one taking a nap right  
now.

 

I stand up in the shallow end and shake my head, flicking the water out of my  
hair, then make my way over to the steps; sitting down on the second to the top  
one I lean back against the edge to catch my breath and just chill out. The  
ceiling waterfall is right above me so I prop my elbows on the top step, tilt my  
head back, close my eyes and let the warm rain shower pelt my face. My legs are  
kind of floating toward the top of the water so I slowly move them up and down  
against the still water. The sprinkling rain from above tickling them on the up  
stroke and relaxing me even more.

 

I understand now why that realtor in my mom’s office liked this place. I’ve  
been here exactly three hours and I’m thinking that this is about as close to  
paradise as one can get. I don’t ever want to leave. I’ve decided. I see no  
reason why you’d have to be a breeder or dyke or a fem queen to like this place.  
Who doesn’t like sex in aquatic places? I start grinning at all the fun Brian  
and I are going to have. I point and flex my toes under the spray as I slowly  
kick the water. It feels so good and is creating such a state of laziness that  
the soft sounds of footsteps don’t register in my mind at all.


	5. Honeymooners, The

Chapter 5: The Rain  
Open Mouth . . .  
Rated: NC-17

“Practicing to be the next Esther Williams?” A voice startles me out of my thoughts and I jump, pulling my legs under the water and making a big splash with my hands.

“Jeezus, Brian! You scared the hell out of me!” I gasp, trying to catch my breath and calm my heart that is now beating earnestly inside my chest. The rain is falling on my head, dragging my long bangs down into my eyes as I’m trying to look up. There’s a figure there, but its not very clear. I sweep my hair back over the top of my head and lean to the side to get out of the spray, wiping the water out of my eyes with the palms of my hands. Finally I’m able to look up.

Brian is standing directly above me and I’m looking at him upside down. He’s still naked and smiling at me. “Someone went exploring without me.”

“You fell asleep,” I offer as an excuse and he jerks his head and mumbles an “ah” in understanding. I smile back at him. “Did you look around? Did you see the hot tub?” I don’t wait for an answer. “And they have a sauna room over there.” I point to the second door and his head follows my finger. “A misting sauna room that has red lights,” I add, raising my eyebrows and he pulls his lips into his mouth. “And did you see the slide?” I point in the other direction, turning my body and splashing the water. “You have to go down the slide.” His head darts back to me, and he arches an eyebrow. “Feel the water, its heated.” I scoop out some water and splash him. He stands there and takes it; he doesn’t move. He’s staring at me. “Well, what do you think?” I have to know if he’s as excited as I am. “Oh, and they have porn…” I say excitedly. “…GAY porn,” I add as an afterthought and he starts laughing. My forehead wrinkles up, “What?”

He steps into the pool without saying anything and moves until he’s under the rain shower. The water cascades off his head, drenching his hair. He leans his head back into it, runs his fingers through his hair, then straightens it back up and shakes his head violently, spraying me with all the discarded water. I blink away the onslaught and when I reopen my eyes, they lock with his and he’s staring down at me, water dripping from the tip of his nose and off his chin. “Fff-uuuck me,” I whisper under my breath. 

I have flashbacks at the vision... I’ve seen that image before. I’m drawn to it and the memories flood my brain. He looks so damn good soaking wet. Most people don’t, but Brian does. I think he knows it and uses it. He certainly did our first night and I grin thinking about how he’s definitely using it now.

And just like way back then, when the vision made me harder than I ever thought possible, my once soggy, flaccid dick that was bobbling between my legs underwater just a few seconds ago is now stretching upward. It breaches the surface of the pool and becomes rigid and stiff.

Brian’s slight chuckle pulls me from my thoughts of yesteryear. “What?” I ask with a slight smile, wiping off some of the drool that evidently seeped out of my gaping mouth. I feel heat on my cheeks, I may be blushing.

“I think your dick has a homing device attached to it. Every time I come within five yards of it, it goes off.”

He’s teasing me of course, so I play along and snicker back. “It doesn’t ‘go off’ when you’re within five yards, it just beeps a warning to let me know it’s ready to ‘go off’ whenever I need it to.”

“Ah. So, it’s ready now?” he asks. His tongue conspicuously sweeps his bottom lip then makes its way to the side, sneaking between his teeth before pushing his cheek out ever so slightly. 

My dick twitches at the sight and makes the water ripple around it. I look down at it and back up at him. “Uh huh,” I nod, finding my mouth hung open again. I close it and swallow a mouthful of spit. He’s definitely working it and I just keep getting sucked in.

He moves a little closer to me, still under the falling water, but under heavier streams. It washes over his face and into his mouth. He blows it out. Doesn’t spit it out, he blows it out in little sputters. It’s really sexy. 

“So?” I ask trying to regain some semblance of self-control.

“So what?”

“You didn’t tell me what you thought of the place. Did you look around?” He steps up on the second step and lifts one leg over me so he has one foot on each side of my body. 

I rub his calves under the water with my hands. The wet hairs swish in the water and prickle against my palms; they excite me as only a man can. Brian’s not hairy by any means, but what he does have is in all the right places… his legs, his underarms, the small amount around his nipples when he doesn’t shave them off, and the lightly, naturally sculpted trail that starts just below his navel and leads to the larger, fuller amount framing his beautiful cock. The hair there is straight, not curly, and oh so sexy. I love sifting my fingers through it. He doesn’t even have to trim and shape like most guys do, his is naturally formed to perfection. And the one place that is usually, annoyingly full of hair on most men; is bare on Brian. His balls and his ass are completely bald, just like mine. It just proves our asses were born for rim jobs. 

His growing erection is right in front of my face now; I tilt my head up and look at him. He rubs the smooth crown along my bottom lip. It’s hard as a rock but feels so soft against my lips. I poke my tongue out just enough to brush over the tip and get a taste of Brian when it dampens my tongue with a small drop.

“I didn’t answer you because you were talking so fast…” Brian says, startling me for a second. I forgot that I’d even asked him a question. “…I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Think there’s a way that I can get you to shut up for two seconds?” And he bats my cheek with his dick. “What do ya think?”

“Just two seconds?” I ask licking along the side of his long shaft.

“Two seconds, two minutes, or as long as you want.” His hands go to the sides of my head and he guides me down on it. 

We waste no time at all getting down to business. He’s gently fucking my face and I love it when he does that, but today, I want to do something special. He loves it when I deep throat him and I love his reaction. It’s not easy to do so I don’t do it often, but I can relax my throat enough to take him all the way in as long as he doesn’t push; I have to control the movement. So I lift my hands out of the water and up his long legs then wrap them around him, grabbing his hairless ass cheeks tightly and pushing him deeper into my mouth. He knows what I’m about to do so he lets go of my head with a gasp and an approving growl then places his hands on my shoulders to steady himself. 

When it slides down into the deeper recesses of my throat …it’s a very snug fit. That’s what makes it so special. So uniquely us... like my esophagus was made just the right size to accommodate his cock. It’s an exact match and gives me this amazing feeling of togetherness. I relax, open my throat, grip his ass, and navigate him into me. I hum and moan on the way in and the way back out… but when he’s deep inside there, I have no way to make a sound or take a breath. I’m completely cut off from all air. 

I’ve often thought that if he got stuck, I would die of suffocation. What a way to go; explain that one to the coroner. In a very strange, delusional way, that hint of danger turns me on even more, but because I don’t have a death wish, I’m very careful. I guess that’s why I have to be the one to control it. 

I go deep again and press my face against his body… all nine inches are inside me, his hair’s tickling my nose. He’s breathing hard with his head bent over blocking the rain from landing directly on me. It’s sprinkling my shoulders, flooding my hands behind him and running down his body all around me, but my face, my nose, my mouth…he tents over them so I don’t have to fight the water to breathe. A slow pull back out with a hum, then a push back in. He gasps and sways a little; I tighten my clasp on his ass. I have to hold my tongue still but I can constrict my throat around the head and knead my lips at the base so I do. On every in-stroke, I milk his cock from both ends and he digs his fingers into my skin.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps, his ass flexes and his legs start quivering. I almost cum right then and there myself. I do it to him again and again. He yells ‘fuck’ every time. The next one does him in. The first splash hits the back of my throat and I pull back quickly to the head so I can swallow it without gagging. The last of it coats my tongue and in a flash, he’s got a firm hold on my arms and pulling me up for a kiss. Our lips close around each other and I push it into his mouth. We kiss hungrily, open-mouthed, mixing his cum with our saliva and the water that’s pouring down our faces. He breaks away suddenly; kissing my cheek in ravenously large pecks from my mouth to my ear then wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly. This is that reaction that I was talking about. I hug him back while his body calms.

“Shit, Justin. Where’d you learn to do that?” he breathes against my ear with a slight hitch in his voice that’s reeling from his orgasm.

“I don’t know,” I answer with a slight chuckle, feeling the heat blush across my cheeks. I hug him tighter. “You bring out my natural abilities, I guess.” I smirk.

“It’s a fucking gift, is what it is,” he states matter of factly, then pulls back a little and I lift my head. He looks at me and right through me at the same time. My knees feel weak. I was trying to tease him by being cocky about it, but that look tells me he’s being serious. 

“A gift just for you,” slips out of my mouth and he breaks our connected gaze to run his hands over my wet hair and slick it back off my forehead. He kisses me there then pulls away without saying another word. He climbs the steps to get out of the pool and I follow him. I grab my towel and toss it to him then pick up the robe and put it on.


	6. Honeymooners, The

Chapter 6: The Sauna & The Chad  
. . . Insert Foot  
Rated: PG-13

“Show me this sauna that you were so enthused about,” he says, turning back towards me.

“Okay,” I agree and step in front of him to lead the way. He grabs my hand as I pass by him. A smile creeps up on my lips but I don’t want to make a big deal about it, so without comment or look or gesture; I just pull him across the room. I stop at the small bathroom and retrieve another towel before taking him into the sauna. When we get inside, he messes with the switches and controls then moves to the corner, removes his towel from around his waist, folds it in half and lays it on the wooden bench. He sits down and turns sideways, stretching his long legs out in front of him and leaning up against the back.

I take my robe off, fold my towel like he did and place it on the bench by his feet then sit down and lean back. He bends one leg out to the side and pulls the other one up so it’s bent at the knee and resting against the back. His legs are spread open and I’m trying not to look, but I’m still sporting an incredibly hard hard-on from the blowjob and it’s making it really difficult to not take a peek.

We see each other naked all the time and for the most part it’s no big deal. It’s just natural and comfortable. But there are other times, like right now, when the nudity is a major turn-on. “Come here,” he says in a voice that sends chills running down my spine.

I huff a little and smile then scoot down near him. He turns me around and leans me up against his chest. I bend my knees in front of me and his leg that was bent outward slides underneath my legs. He wraps his arms around me and my head falls back onto his shoulder. And that’s how we spend the next hour… some small talk about school, my classes and current projects; about his current prospects, this place included and his plan to try to woo some meatier clients; there’s some moments of silence and listening to each other breathe; some light banter about the porn in the cabinet and the need to call for better condoms before we watch them; then some heavier talk about our pseudo family and the current drama – Hunter, Ted, Mel, Michael and the new baby; some more silence. It’s nice. It’s us.

“Brian?” I ask breaking the intimate silence.

“Hmmm?” He’s drawing circles on my chest with his finger outlining my nipples, round and round. 

“Do you think this is how straight people spend part of their honeymoon? Just sitting here together and relaxing and talking or do you think they spend the whole time having sex?” The finger circles stop. 

He pushes me up. “We’ve been in here too long and I need to go over those brochures. This is a business trip after all.” And he’s out the door before I can even register what just happened. I have no idea why I asked that, it just came out. 

Who cares what straight people do on their honeymoons? We’re not straight and we’re not married and this is not a real honeymoon. I guess I was just caught up in… something… I don’t know. What we have just seems to be so unique to me, so special, so wonderful. I can’t imagine that anybody else in the world has what we have. 

I shake my head; grab my towel and head out, turning off all the switches as I go. 

When I get upstairs, he’s got his jeans on already and he’s sitting at the dining room table leafing through the folder that they’d given him at the front desk. I stand there silent; I don’t know what to say. I think he knows because he stops turning the papers and lets out a sigh. He looks up at me then back down at the table. “You gonna call about those condoms?” he asks with a straight face, not looking at me.

“Yeah,” I answer with a smile knowing this comment was his way of telling me that he wasn’t making a big deal out of my question and that he probably overreacted. I would have to agree. 

“While you’re at it, why don’t you ask them to come get you and take you to the car. There’s a tube of lube in the glove compartment.”

I walk over to him, snake my arms around his neck and drape them over his chest, rubbing my hands over his pecs. I kiss his cheek then rest my chin on his shoulder. “Don’t you ever think about anything else besides sex?” I ask him with a chuckle.

“Nope.” And he laughs too. “And neither do you, you nympho, so don’t deny it.” Of course, we both know that the last hour in the sauna already proved that’s not true of either one of us.

“I won’t deny it, especially not this weekend.” I say and he turns his head to look at me, questioning why. “’Cause we’re on our honeymoon.” I add to answer his inquisitive glance.

He groans in dramatic exasperation. I knew that’d get him. I laugh, lightly slap his face with a playful tap then move towards the phone to call the front desk. “You’re so easy sometimes, Brian.”

“And sometimes, you’re a twat,” he says pulling my towel from around my waist as I walk away.

“Yeah, yeah.” I turn around and hold my hands out. He tosses me back my towel with a smirk.

So I pull on some sweats and a t-shirt, slip on my shoes, not bothering with any socks and go out the door to wait for my ride. The golf cart pulls up; it’s Mr. Cute Guy again. Come to find out, his name’s Chad. Figures. He looks like a Chad. He reminds me of that guy that Brian used for the Poole Boy ads… only straight.

We make small talk on the way back to the main building. He asks me what I think of the place and I tell him that I love it. He tells me about some of the other themed suites…Jungle Adventures. Tarzan and Jane images enter my mind. Swinging on vines over swamps and things. Maybe mud baths. 

… Decadent Dungeon, which I’d love to see. I turn to look at him with interest. 

“Yep,” he says nodding his head. I smile in perfect understanding. 

… Barbie’s Playhouse and I cock an eyebrow. Must be that horrid pink one that I saw earlier. 

“Don’t ask,” he tells me with a laugh. Believe me, I have no intention to. 

He says it’s all in the brochures so I know that as I’m being told about them, Brian is reading about them. Wonder if he’s thinking about coming back here sometime to check out the dungeon one with me. Might be fun. I squirm a little in my seat and rub my wrists. We played with handcuffs once. The cold metal against my skin and the feeling of helplessness was rather exciting. I know this dungeon thing would probably be more than a few sets of handcuffs, but still…

We pull up to the main building, Chad jumps out and goes over to the valet desk to retrieve our keys then jumps back in and drives me over to the ‘vette. 

“Nice ride,” he says as we come to a stop.

“You think so?” I ask, wrinkling my nose. But I don’t elaborate as to why I’m not so impressed with it. I don’t tell him about the rule or that there’s just no comfortable way to fuck in it. And believe me, Brian and I have tried every way we can think of. One of us always ends up with the most painful leg cramp. It’s just not worth it.

“Yeah, it’s a classic,” he answers, pulling me from my thoughts.

“I guess so,” I say with a shrug. Cars aren’t really my thing… classic or otherwise. They’re just a means of transportation to me. A way to get from point A to point B. He hands me the keys and I get out. I unlock the passenger door and reach in to open the glove compartment. The lube is there as well as a couple of condoms. I grab them then realize I don’t have pockets in these sweats. Shit.

I look back at Chad. He seems to understand that we’re obviously gay and since this is a sex retreat, I’m sure he’s assuming that we’re having sex. And I’m sure he’s seen it all and has probably been well versed to not be judgmental, but still, I feel kind of weird getting back into the golf cart with lube and condoms so clearly in my hands. It’d be like taking out an ad… ‘Yes, we fuck in the ass.’ It’s one thing to know and another thing to know, you know?

I leave them on the seat and move to the trunk, hoping I’ll find something that I can use to conceal them. I luck out. Brian’s gym bag is in the trunk; I grab it and go back to the passenger door. I unzip it to put them inside and find more lube and more condoms.

I’m not quite sure how I’m feeling about that, but I do take pause, albeit just for a second. I mean, I know, but seeing this is like really knowing. For-sure knowing. I shrug it off. That has nothing to do with me… or us.

With my secret sex supplies tucked away in Brian’s gym bag with the rest of Brian’s sex supplies, I grab the bag, lock the door and jump back in the golf cart. 

“Get everything?” Chad asks innocently.

“Um, yeah. Brian can’t work out without his gym stuff.” I lie. “He’s kind of anal about stuff like that. Has to have his favorite shirt, his most comfortable pair of shorts. It’s really pathetic.” Chad laughs and now I feel sick. Why the fuck did I just say all that? All to hide the fact that I needed to get some lube so my partner could fuck me into the mattress? …Do waterbeds even have a mattress? Whatever. I’m so pathetic.

We drive back in silence; I’m too scared to open my mouth. Who knows what will come out. It’s safer to just be quiet, I think. He stops, I get out. “Thanks,” I say with a weak smile. I’m just glad this little scavenger hunt is over.

“No problem,” he answers.

I’m halfway to the door when he calls out to me. “Oh, hey, I almost forgot.”

I turn around and he’s digging through the little compartment between the seats. I walk back out of curiosity.

“You asked for these.” And he holds out a plain black box. The condoms I’d asked the front desk to get for us. 

Heat rushes over my face. Fuck. “Oh, right,” I tell him, trying to act like it’s no big deal. I take the box from him and now I’m feeling really stupid. I went to great lengths to conceal what I got out of the car, completely forgetting that I’d ordered a box like I was ordering a pizza or something. But he made no strange gesture, gave no disapproving look so that feeling like I just want to die eases up a bit.

“Are they the right kind?” he asks.

“Yeah, they are. Thanks again.”

“Okay, great. You guys have fun. If there’s anything else you need, just call,” he says nonchalantly. Like professionally. I can’t help but laugh as he drives away… I’d queened out for no reason at all. I’m so not telling Brian.


	7. Honeymooners, The

Chapter 7: The Hot Tub I - The Cork  
It's A Matter Of Trust I  
Rated: R

 

I walk back into the suite and round the corner to the dining/kitchen area. The brochures and literature of the retreat are strewn all over the table, but Brian’s no longer there. The champagne bottle that was in the ice bucket is gone. I set the gym bag down on the floor and head toward the bedroom. If he’s taking another nap, I’m waking his ass up. But the room is empty… he’s not there. I head toward the railing, calling for him.

“Brian?”

“Down here,” comes the response and I chuckle. I had already determined that he wasn’t upstairs. I lean over the railing and look down. There he is, in the hot tub, bubbles on full blast, water up to his neck, his arms spread out to the sides, resting on the edge of the tub… champagne bottle and two glasses sitting beside him on the ground. 

“What are you doing?” I ask with a grin.

He looks up at me with a definite smirk. “What does it look like I’m doing?” 

Obviously sitting in a hot tub, not doing a damn thing is what I want to say, but instead, I choose to not answer him. It’s a baited question anyway. Too easy. 

His smile gets a little bigger then one arm disappears below the bubbles. He straightens his face to a look of ‘you know you want me’, tilts his head back then his eyelids slowly slide shut. His arm is making definite ‘I’m jacking off’ movements and his back arches up a little. 

My eyebrows go up. It’s a deliberate show. He opens one eye to peek at me. Yes, I’m still looking, I say with my smile. 

His other eye opens and he sits up, pulling his arm back out of the water and returning it to the side of the tub. His chest heaves with a sigh. I laugh and he shoots me a glare. “As much as I’d like to entertain your voyeuristic tendencies…” He tries to be a smartass, but his glare fades and his face softens as he continues, “I’d much rather you be down here doing, then up there watching.” He looks away, letting me ponder that thought and make up my own mind.

I’m not an idiot so I laugh and head towards the stairs. 

“Naked!” he calls out. He knew I’d come. Smartass.

But he has the right idea, so I undress on the way down the stairs. A trail of shoes, shirt and sweats are scattered behind me as they’re dropped where they came off. I get to the bottom of the stairs and next to the tub. “Ah, decided to join me?” He snickers. 

Sometimes he just annoys the shit out of me, thinking I’m always just that easy. He’s right, but it’s still annoying. But of course, annoyed or not, the homing device in my dick gives me that ‘Brian within five yards’ warning, so yes, I’m sporting a hard-on already. So damn easy… he doesn’t even have to work for it. Downright fucking annoying. 

“And I see you brought a friend.” he states all coy-like looking at the navigational tool between my legs that’s sticking straight out to point at its intended target.

“Shut up, Brian,” I spit out at him. If I didn’t love him so much, I’d smack him too, just to wipe that smirk off his face. 

“What, baby? It’s not a friend?” he asks shyly, sweetly. 

What the fuck? What’s this ‘baby’ and ‘friend’ shit all of a sudden? I am not his baby and this hard thing bobbing between my legs is a dick. D. I. C. K. Dick. Not a friend. Who are you and what have you done with my Brian? The one that annoys me so much.

“Come here,” he says in a very sexy drawl, motioning with his hand. Well, that’s a familiar enough expression so this must be him. I take a step closer to climb into the tub, feeling confidant and no longer disturbed. I’ve got one foot already in the bubbling hot water when he speaks again. “I want your friend to meet my friend.” And he lifts his hips up out of the water, grabs his ‘friend’ and wags it in the air. 

Huh? I pull my foot back out and I wrinkle my nose. “Shut up and stop that,” I tell him. “You’re freaking me out.”

He lets go of his dick and sits back down. He huffs. He looks annoyed. At me! 

“Oh right. What happened to ‘let’s make a baby / carry me over the threshold’ Justin?” He’s grumbling and being all pissy now. Okay, so he was getting even.

Relieved that he hadn’t lost his mind completely, I climb back in and make my way over to him. 

“Ahh,” I use my pitiful widdle infantine tone that he really hates. “Was you tryin’ to have some fun and I spoiled it for you?” 

I cup his cheek in my hand; he pulls back and turns his head away from me. I straddle his lap, putting my knees on the seat, turn his head to face me and kiss his lips. He’s not kissing me back. The bastard. I lean in, poke my friend into his navel and kiss him again. He won’t open his mouth. My tongue is pushing against his lips but he’s not budging. 

Then suddenly, before I even know what’s happening, he grabs my hips, spins us around in the water, plants my ass on the seat and now he’s straddling my lap and shoving his tongue deep into my mouth. Of course, I’m easy so he doesn’t have much trouble, I open willingly and he explores my mouth, pressing his body against me and pinning me so I can’t move then he breaks the kiss quickly.

“That’s better,” he says smugly. 

Utterly and completely annoys me. The bastard. I glare at him even though I really want him to kiss me again. 

He smiles at me then reaches over and grabs the champagne bottle. We’re staring at each as he removes all the foil and untwists the wire bracket. He starts working on the cork, easing it back and forth, trying to dislodge it. He’s got the bottle right between us, the base in one hand, the other over the top wrapped around the cork. The bottle’s tilted just slightly and seems to be aimed right at me… my eyes flutter. It’s a little scary... this is how accidents happen, right? A voice pops into my head, I hear my mom…’be careful, you’re gonna shoot that thing right in someone’s eye’. I squeeze my eyes shut to hide the vision of the bottle taking aim and to get my mom out of my head. I mean, I’m naked and I have a hard-on, my mom is not what I want on my mind right now. 

“Hey.” 

Oh yeah, Brian’s still here. Right. Hot tub, naked, impending sex, champagne… aimed right at my head.

I open my eyes reluctantly. They’re still fluttering, he’s still working on the cork. I’m tense. He stops, removes his hand. I open them the rest the way and relax. I look up at him with my sexy look; he looks at me kind of funny. Uh oh.

“You don’t trust me.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“What?” Where the hell did that come from?

“You’re afraid this will pop you in the face.”

“Am not,” I lie. 

“Yes, you are. You’re afraid that I might actually let this thing hurt you?”

“I’m not afraid. You’re queening out, Brian.” I roll my eyes at him and let out a ‘pfft’. He’s not queening… I was afraid. And now I feel guilty. Shit.

“Well then, what was this?” and he bats his eyelashes really fast, mocking me, and my damn fluttering eyelids.

“Stop it.” I push his face with my hand.

“I would never hurt you, you know.” He’s serious.

“I know,” I reassure him. “Not on purpose anyway,” I add with a shrug of my shoulders. And I’m thinking this conversation is over. Back to the champagne and the impending sex.

But, noooo. Queen Brian is not satisfied.

“Justin,” he starts, one hand on his hip, the other on the bottle that’s resting on his thigh. “You have to know I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either. You have to trust that I’m smart enough to maintain an aura of safety. You know? No stupid stuff. Like noooo blowjobs while I’m driiivvvviiiing…” he trails off, I’m sure it’s because my face is showing something he doesn’t like. 

I quickly inventory my facial muscles; everything feels normal. I’m just looking at him, no expression at all. At least I don’t think so. Shit. I have no idea what he’s seeing. 

His eyebrows go up. “God, d’you think that was to protect my car?”

‘Wellllll, yes I did actually,’ I admit to myself. “Nooo,” I tell him and add a ‘duh’ look. 

“So, you trust I can open this bottle without taking a chance that the cork’s gonna shoot you in the eye?” He’s really bugged by this. I feel like an ass now. I guess I just never thought… oh, shit.

“I trust you, Brian. I don’t trust the bottle though, or that cork.” I say laughing.

“But I’m in control of the bottle and the cork so you have no worries.” He raises his eyebrows at me and grins.

“Just open the damn bottle.” I push his face with my hand again.

He brings it back between us, just like it was before and starts working on it again. He’s keeping his eyes locked on mine. He wants to make sure I don’t flinch. I’m concentrating so hard on his face and not fluttering my eyes, that I’m actually startled when the cork pops off, right in his hand. It didn’t shoot anywhere. I smile at him; his eyebrows go up and his lips pull into that ‘told you so’ stance. So totally annoying.

The foam starts spewing out of the bottle. He quickly lifts my head by pressing up on my chin and holds the bottle over my mouth. The foam oozes out and fills my mouth quickly and runs down my cheeks. The carbonation takes my breath away. I can feel the bubbles popping in my nose and can hear them inside my head, crackling like Pop-Rocks or Rice Krispies cereal. He keeps pouring but just before I start to choke, he pulls the bottle away, covers my mouth with his and we share the first drink of the champagne together then kiss until we both need air.

We pull away, both of us saying ‘mmm’ at the same time. “See?” he adds. “Trust.”

“I get it, I get it. But do you trust me?” He kisses me instead of answering, but when he pulls away from the kiss he says…

“With my life.” 

I grab his face in both hands and plant one on him full force. I pull away with a loud smack, leaving him breathless and his mouth hung open. A very surprised look on his face. I grin at him. Maybe he’s not so annoying.


	8. Honeymooners, The

Chapter 8: The Hot Tub II – The Jets  
Riding The Waves  
Rated: NC-17

 

Brian tilts the bottle up and pours some into his mouth. I watch him drink, his lips encased around the tip, his adam’s apple wobbling in his throat every time he swallows. My heart pounds a couple of times just a little bit harder. I lick my lips and lean in to cover the nodule with my mouth and massage it with my tongue.

“Hmpf,” he chokes and jerks away quickly with a cough that spritzes my face with a mixture of spit and champagne. I guess that wasn’t such a good idea but I couldn’t help it. It looked so damn sexy and sometimes I just want to eat him.

“Sorry,” I mutter, hanging my head, shamefaced, brushing my fingers down the middle of his chest. 

He chortles a quiet huff, dipping his head so we’re cheek to cheek. “It’s okay,” he whispers in my ear then he sticks his tongue out and drags it across my face, licking off the sprayed droplets until he reaches my lips. I lift my head and open my mouth at the same time and we kiss and kiss. Soft at first, just teasing touches with our tongues then more intense, roaming them deeper into each other’s mouth. 

He breaks away and we both take a breath. He holds the bottle next to the corner of my mouth. Never taking our eyes off each other, I tilt up and he pours. A little too much and my mouth starts to overflow. I close to swallow and more spills out. He catches it before it slides off my chin then he sucks and nibbles on me. My chin, my jaw, my bottom lip. We’re both mmm-ing and ahh-ing.

He backs away smiling, “Damn.”

It’s funny how I know I turn him on as much as he does me, but yet when he says stuff like that while he’s panting and out of breath, it still makes me blush and gives me goosebumps.

He sets the bottle down then lowers his hands below the water. They slip onto my hips then he kneads the flesh with his strong fingers… just a little. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising high before falling back down. He stares at me. I do the same, deep breath and a sigh. I grin. He grins back. He’s thinking about what he wants to do. Sometimes I have a distinct desire for something in particular but right now, I just don’t care. I’m game for anything.

To facilitate the thinking process, I grab my still-hard cock and do a mock sword fight with his, batting against it, rubbing the tips together, nudging it, bumping it. He jumps off me and stands in front of me, my legs that are dangling off the seat are between his knees. He picks up my legs and wraps them around his waist. I lock my feet together, one heel resting against the upper cleft of his ass. 

He grabs my hips again and lifts me up. With the tub full and the bubbles going, as soon as I’m no longer sitting upright, the water is up to my neck. I dip under to get my hair wet then instinctively grab the sides of the tub to keep from going under again. I hold on loosely because he’s moving me to another part of the tub. My body is weightless in the water so he’s able to shift me around effortlessly.

He gets me where he wants and pushes me back toward the side. I feel the powerful jets of propelling water against my back immediately. I draw myself closer to the side of the hot tub and place my elbows on the rim. I don’t really have to hang on; it’s mostly just to keep me in place. The power of the churning water is keeping my body afloat on top of it, it’s like surfing a wave on my ass. I relax and my hips drop just a smidge… just enough that those powerful jets are now shooting right at my hole… waking it up, massaging it and it sends me reeling. 

I moan immediately. 

And Brian responds with a hefty, “Yeah.” As if my moan made him feel what I was feeling. But then again, he just loves to hear me moan so I never, ever stifle them. 

He releases his hold on my hips and lets me totter on top of the water. He rubs my chest, tweaks my nipples, scratches my stomach, all the good stuff. My head falls back and I close my eyes. It’s hard to explain exactly what it feels like to have water with this much force shooting out at you, but it’s real nice. I remember the first time I experienced it and there’s just nothing better. 

We were in Brian’s shower at the loft, way back in the beginning so my list of experiences was Brian and well… Brian. Everything was a new experience. He’d pressed me against the glass then got down on his knees behind me. He spread me open and rimmed me for a few seconds which was nothing new, he’d done that our very first night together and every time since. He said he liked the way I tasted. I didn’t really get the whole taste thing at the time, but I sure get it now. 

But that night he didn’t finish, the rim job was very short then he pulled back on my hips making me slightly bend over and turned me to the side. I felt the shower rain down on my ass then he pried my cheeks apart again to allow the water to spray directly between them. I pulled away instantly thinking that maybe I hadn’t been clean when he went down on me and he was trying to cleanse me. I was embarrassed and stood up. I tried to turn around from him, I didn’t want him to see; but he stopped me. 

I think even back then, he knew what I was thinking because he huffed a chuckle then pulled me back under the water saying, “You’re fine, Justin, I just want you to feel something. Relax.” His reassuring words did relax me, so I closed my eyes and leaned into the glass, trusting him that if this was something new he wanted me to experience, then it must be really good and I was gonna do as he said. 

The sporadic pulsing of the water was stimulating all the little, microscopic nerve endings that surround my opening, energizing the tiny folds to contract and quiver, sending these signals of exhilaration to my brain. I started moaning immediately. I couldn’t believe what I was feeling. 

“That’s it. Go with it,” he told me. 

The sound of his soothing voice dripped with arousal and turned me on even more. I grabbed my dick and while he held my ass open and bit on my hip and thigh, the water rained down on me and I jerked myself off. 

I couldn’t even begin to count how many times I’d jerked off during a shower before that day but that was by far the most intense, rip-roaring orgasm that I’d ever had by masturbating. 

After I’d gotten off and slumped against the glass, he stood up behind me and whispered in my ear. “Good, huh?” 

I was so weak; all I could muster was a smile. 

Much like I am now, knowing that I’m getting really close to the point of release; this feeling is like the feeling before, but better; ten, no a hundred times better. These jets are more intense than the shower nozzle because instead of a sputtering tickle of soft droplets from overhead; it’s a constant propulsion of strong flowing warm water projecting out at one of the most sensitive spots on the human body. It’s powerful…very powerful.

And kicking it up another notch, this time Brian’s jerking me off instead of me doing it myself. I’m holding on by my legs still locked behind his back and my elbows still resting on the side of the hot tub. He has one hand on my dick, stroking me, coercing me to climax… the other one’s rubbing up and down over my chest and stomach, playing in the floating hairs just below my navel. It’s really amazing and makes me wonder if he knew it would be like this and that’s why this was what he decided to do. 

The water’s propelling out right at me, relaxing and tensing me at the same time, then it shoots under by balls, making them jiggle and bounce against the force of the water. My entire groin area is getting a therapeutic, aquatic massage. My head lulls back and forth and my breaths become sporadic…Brian starts jerking me harder. 

“Come for me, Justin,” he says and I moan louder and pant harder. I’m at the edge, teetering on it, ready to fall off.

“That’s it, Justin. Go with it.” Brian says softly. Those words, those same words he’d said before mixed with him saying my name, sends me spinning. I squeeze my legs together, crushing his sides and start bucking my hips and just shooting and shooting. My body’s convulsing into orgasmic oblivion. “Good, huh?” he asks and all I say to answer is “Oh, oh, oh,” because I’m on the other side now where everything lights up and electrifies and starts giving you little jolts when touched. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Brian answers his own question. I try to move away from the water that’s still stabbing at me but he’s holding me now.

“Fuck!” I add through a gasp. I buck my hips up wildly to move away from the jets and he takes a step to the side. My legs are still attached to him so I move with him. Much better now and I try to calm my breathing.

“You have such a way with words,” Brian laughs as he kisses my chin. 

I join in his laughter, halfheartedly, lifting my head and opening my eyes. “Fifteen hundred on my SATs,” I remind him with a smirk and he kisses me again. I kiss him back of course and all other thoughts leave my head. I know my fingers and toes are starting to prune because we’ve been in here for a long time, but I don’t care. I have a need brewing and I intend to act on it.

I unwrap my legs from around him and plant my feet on the wall of the hot tub and push off. We glide through the bubbling water to the other side until Brian’s back hits the cement seat. A pained “hrmphf,” escapes from his lips and into my mouth. I giggle and wrap his legs around my waist, lift him up over the step and position him just right. 

I like being in the water like this with him. The floating effect allows me to manhandle him in a way that I don’t usually get to. Moving his body around, putting it right where I want it and holding him there. Oh yeah, this is definitely hot… very hot. 

He moans into the kiss and deepens it, grabbing the back of my neck and pressing my mouth closer against his. I push back… this is my show, damn it. I push against his chest with my hand then grab his arms by the inside of his elbows and push them to the side of the tub. I warn him with my eyes not to move them. He gets the idea and lays his head back on the edge and closes his eyes. I want to get him off like he just did me, but it’s going to be on my terms. I lean over and start sucking on his neck until he’s gasping and panting then I grab his dick that’s been bobbing on top of the water and start stroking it, fast and furiously, as the powerful jet aimed at his ass works it’s magic. 

And I kiss him and gnaw on him and bite him and kiss him some more. I see his fingernails turn white ‘cause he’s gripping the edge so strongly, trying to obey my warning and not touch me. I like that I’ve got him fighting his urges.

I’m hard again from kissing him and watching him and an idea forms in my head. I let go of him and put my hands on his hips. He opens his eyes, lifts his head and looks at me with wonder.

“Scoot back,” I tell him as if answering his silent question.

He grips the sides to pull back and I lift up on my toes forcefully in a small jump to propel me forward. I bend my legs and my knees float onto the seat underneath him then I lower his butt to rest on my thighs. We’re dick to dick, balls to balls now so I wrap my hand around our twin cocks and resume stroking us; this time, together. 

His eyelids lazily close and a low murmur rumbles in his throat. His head falls back again and I brush his exposed neck with my free hand. He’s so beautiful and it makes me sigh as I touch him. The water jet is still shooting at him then bends and turns when it hits hole just like a river does when it hits a rock or tree stump. It flows underneath him, over his balls then mine, then swooshes under my ass, up my crack, to the tip of my spine, worming its way through the tangle of his feet then bubbles to the top surrounding his wiggling toes. It’s downright fucking amazing. 

More amazing then any shower massage could ever be. A new twist to a game we’ve played before and it’s happening because we’re here, in this hot tub, at this retreat. It suddenly becomes all too clear why people come to places like this, why they’re important and I wonder if Brian is thinking the same thing.

Brian’s legs tighten, his heel presses on my back so I stroke faster and lean over. I can’t reach his mouth, so I suck on his chin. I just have to have my mouth on some part of his body. I guess it’s that oral fixation thing that Brian accuses me of. If this is what that means, then yes, I’m guilty. Fuck it, I don’t care. He lifts his head and our lips meet. Kissing and stroking and getting a groin massage. What could be better than this? Kissing and moaning and kissing and... 

It doesn’t take long before he’s breaking the kiss, throwing his head back and dazzling me with his own rendition of intellectual vocabulary by screaming out loud into the air above him, words like, shit, fuck and yeah. I’m right there with him but my screams are silent. I don’t want to miss this opportunity to hear him cum, always want to hear him cum. 

Funny, how a good education, even on the most intelligent of individuals, just goes out the window when you’re in the middle of cumming. But then again, those three little four-letter words sound a lot hotter than feculence, copulation and affirmative when in the throws of passion. They just don’t have the same effect. I mean, who needs a large vocabulary in instances like this? Sometimes there’s nothing more appropriate then ‘oh, fuck’. 

And he’s letting that word loose a lot. It’s rapid fire succession but I’m watching it in slo-mo and listening to every word coming out of his mouth… a stroke by my hand, a arch in his back, a pummeling of the water jets, a scream of ‘FUCK!” then shots of our jizz mix on my hand. Again and again. It’s really hot. Shit, fuck yeah, it’s hot. Then after the last ripples leave our bodies, he sighs with a “shit.”

Shit’s exactly what I’m thinking too but I have to giggle. “Good, huh?” I ask, using two more of those impressive words that my parents paid good money to St. James Academy for. 

“Oh, yeah. Fucking hot as hell,” he answers, kissing my face somewhere between my mouth and my nose. That was hot. It may be just a little three-letter word but it’s appropriate. So, not being able to think of a better one myself, I don’t blame him, but I do giggle again. 

I back away from him and he grunts. I look at my hands. “We’re getting all prune-y,” I say wrinkling my nose. My teachers would be so proud. I can’t help but laugh again.

He huffs. “All shriveled up and wrinkly?” He shudders his shoulders with an aching moan. Those are two things that Brian never wants to be. “We can’t have that, now can we? Ready to get out?”

“Affirmative,” I answer with a smirk and he looks at me a little confused.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not even going to pretend to know what’s got you so amused,” he says as he climbs out of the hot tub. Of course his retreating ass in my face is irresistible so I swat it as he goes. “Hey,” he barks and turns around glaring at me. I give him a smile of innocence then he grabs my hand to pull me out and once I’m out and steady on my feet, I swat him again just for good measure. I’m thinking he’s going to get me back but he just covers his ass with his hands and changes the subject instead.


	9. Honeymooners, The

Chapter 9: The Movie  
I Know Bullshit When I Hear It  
Rated: R

 

“We need to stay out of the water for awhile. How about we order some dinner and watch a movie?”

“Ahhh, I’d love to, honey. Nothing beats a quiet evening at home with my man,” I tease.

He snaps me with his towel and moves ahead of me. “We aren’t at home, remember?”

“Oh, you’re right. So this will be like a real date then. Dinner and a movie. You’re so romantic.”

He shoots me a glare over his shoulder so I continue. “And if you play your cards right, stud, I might let you kiss me.”

He stops abruptly and because I’m toweling my wet hair and not paying attention to where I’m going, I bump right into him. He turns around, looks down at me and puts his fingers under my chin to lift my face and make me look at him. “And if you’re lucky, I might let you fuck me.” He kisses my nose then covers my face with his hand and pushes me away.

I hate it when he does that. “Maybe I won’t want to,” I say, but have no idea why.

He snorts. Of course he does, I almost snorted myself. It was a stupid thing to say. “When have you ever not wanted to?” And that’s the exact reason why it was a stupid thing to say.

I close one eye, pretending to think of a time, but I know he knows damn well, there isn’t one so I have only one retort… “Well, there’s a first time for everything.” I scrunch up my face in disbelief as to where this lame ass conversation has gone.

He snorts again. “Not likely.” He’s so smug. And I stand there defeated, a look of sadness on my face, and again, I have no idea why. He did just say he wants me to fuck him… and I’m feeling defeated? He walks back to me and puts his arm around my shoulders to pull me with him up the stairs. “Come on, I’ll call for dinner, you pick out a movie.”

“Porn?” I ask getting excited. 

We reach the top of the stairs and he pushes me towards the bedroom as he says, “As a prelude to kissing and amazingly hot sex? I would think so.” 

I turn around to pop him with my towel as he heads to the phone. “Get dessert,” I demand.

“I’ll get you one.”

“Fine. I’ll share,” I say rolling my eyes at him. It’s so ridiculous. He knows damn well that he’s going to eat half of mine. He never orders one for himself like he’s doing such a great job sticking to his diet of low fat and carbs. Does he not understand, what counts is not eating that kind of food, not being dedicated enough to not order it? But I let it go, because it’s actually one of the things that I love about him – his internal conflict. Saying one thing and acting on another. 

Most people just listen to what he says and that’s why they think he’s an asshole. He says some very asshole-y things. But it’s not what he says; it’s what he does. It amazes me that the people that supposedly know him best; don’t see this. I saw it the very first night we were together and that’s why I still hang around. I may have forgotten how to read him for a while, but I remember now. Besides, when he eats half my dessert, he lets me feed it to him, and believe me… sticking things in his mouth is always a good thing.

I go to the movie cabinet to pick out which one of the three Jeff Stryker movies we’re going to watch. It still makes me laugh that all that Mr. Martin stocked up on was Jeff Stryker movies. Like he’s the only guy that makes gay porn. I mean, the guy is a hottie, that’s for sure, and he does have a beautiful cock. But still… I can’t help but think Brian’s is better so it doesn’t really matter to me which one I pick out. Watching any dick slide in and out of any guy’s mouth or ass would be hot – it’s all just background noise for us – we don’t need porn to get in the mood. We’re always in the mood. 

But I guess I should just be glad that he tried to stock the room with something for us… it beats having to watch straight porn and it shows that he was serious when he said he would make accommodations for same sex couples, and it also confirms that he was right about needing Brian’s guidance in what is needed. Add ‘better porn selection’ to the list… right below ‘non-breeder condoms’. I giggle to myself.

So Jeff Stryker… let’s see… Powertool, hailed as The Best Gay Video of all time; Hard Time, prison flick, whatever; and Busted, another prison movie. What is it about gay porn and prison scenes? Like the only hot guys that are having really hot sex are in prison? Puh-lease. I reach for Powertool, but my eyes wander over to the regular movies. Maybe we’ll watch Jeff’s tool later, during dessert, and watch something else during dinner.

I drag my fingers over the sides of the boxes and one catches my eye. 

I pull it out and chuckle. It’s perfect. I put the DVD into the player and cue it up to the main menu. I grab a pair of boxers and a t-shirt then put them on. I get some sweats out for Brian and take them to him. If we’re to watch a movie and eat some dinner, we need to be dressed or we won’t make it past the opening credits.

After the food’s delivered, we settle on the waterbed, careful not to tip the trays over. We prop the pillows up and I start the movie. As soon as the titles flicker across the screen Brian turns to me with an arched eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

“It’s supposed to be really funny and besides, he’s sooo hot,” I tell him, leaning over next to him to kiss his cheek.

“Uh huh,” is all he says.

I know why he’s doubting my motive, and even though I did pick it for the reasons I told him, I have other reasons as well…just not what he’s thinking. He thinks it’s a hint about us getting married and it’s not. Not at all. Honest. 

It is a comedy and Daphne did tell me that it was very funny, that’s all true. But it’s also going to be funny because it will torture Brian. I’ll get to watch him squirm, trying to deal with what he thinks I’m thinking. 

And it’s true that the guy’s hot, but the reason I think he’s hot is because he looks almost like Brian did ten years ago. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was my age and this Ashton Kutcher guy could have been his twin. Brian has aged well though, and I would take him at 31 over that Ashton guy at 21 any day of the week… it’s not even a contest. But Daphne told Brian about the resemblance once and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Which means… more torture. I may have an evil side.

So the fact that this movie stars him, is called Just Married, and we’re watching it while in a honeymoon suite, well, that’s just too perfect to pass up.

He gets over being perturbed at me and we eat and we watch and we laugh. I’m pleasantly surprised that Brian’s giving it a chance. And I start to think that my evil plan to irritate him has been foiled. But that’s fine with me. It’s nice to just relax, watch a movie, and have dinner with Brian without all the stress of him having to maintain his guard.

About halfway through the movie, the comedic hijinx fade when the newly, married couple splits up. It’s at this point that Brian speaks for the first time since the movie started. “You see?” he asks, motioning with his hand toward the screen. “They never should’ve gotten married. It ruined everything. They were fine before. They didn’t need it.”

I put my fork down and look at him. All this time I had thought he was against all the committed, marriage, ‘til death do us part stuff because we’re gay, but yet he makes this comment about a straight couple, so now I’m thinking his issue isn’t because we’re men or because we’re gay; he has a problem with the whole idea, period. For everyone. That seems so different to me. I was in agreement with him before and his stance on marriage, it’s not for us. But I do believe it is for the majority of people. I believe in marriage; I just don’t believe that marriage is right for us. Somehow, Brian not believing in it at all; bugs me.

He looks at me and knows by the befuddled look on my face that I am blown away. I have to ask.

“You don’t believe in marriage at all?”

“No, it’s ridiculous. Aren’t you watching this?” he asks me. He seems so angry… at the movie… at something.

“Yeah, I’m watching it. But this a comedy, Brian. It’s not supposed to represent a real look at marriages.”

He doesn’t give up. “Justin, you’re missing the point of the movie. They, themselves didn’t need to get married to know how they felt about each other. It was the outside world pressuring them to do it. So they did and everything got fucked up. You have to live the way you want. You can’t let society or in the case of this movie, your family put their beliefs on you.”

Okay, I see where he’s going with this, but… “But, they did want to, Brian. It’s not like anyone had a gun to their heads.”

“They wanted to because everyone else made them believe it’s what they were supposed to do. Just like advertising. Someone sold them something they had no use for and before they realized it, the check was cashed and the return policy had expired. They were stuck.”

Gee, I hate it when he makes everything about advertising. I guess that’s why he’s so good at it… he can sell anything, and can spot someone else’s sales job a mile away. I’ve had to learn how to talk around that so that the bill of goods I’m trying to sell to him get through. Remember my new Rage character, Razorback? Yeah, I thought that one was pretty good. And he heard me, so I guess that proves it was. But out of habit, I have to argue… “Yeah but…” 

Of course, he cuts me off. He’s getting frustrated. “But nothing, Justin. He loved her, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And she loved him?”

“Yeah, but…” I’m still wanting to argue and I have no idea why other than the fact that I can’t seem to think of anything remotely intelligent to say right now.

“And they both knew it, right?”

“Yeah, so?” I’m obviously giving up this fight. He’s adamant and I do agree with him. But to end it on the lame ass ‘so’ retort? … I’m so pathetic.

“So? That’s what proves my point. That was all that was needed. That they both knew that they loved each other. I don’t need a piece of paper or a piece of jewelry or the permission of the government or the grace of some God almighty to tell me how I feel.”

“But it’s a promise, a pledge…” I say weakly in my attempt to refute. I have no idea what else to say or why I should. I do know Brian loves me and he does know I love him. No piece of paper or verbal declaration would change that or make it any clearer. It’s evident in everything we do. There’s no mistaking how we feel any longer. That’s why it’s not important to us. It’s just weird that we’ve never really talked about it… not in a serious manner anyway. 

“No, it’s symbolism and words.” He picks up his tray and places it on the nightstand. I look down at my plate, pick up my fork and push the food around thinking. When he turns back, I hand him mine. He takes it and says, “It’s all bullshit. It means nothing.”

A-ha!! Finally an intelligent retort pops into my brain. “Kind of like ‘I don’t believe in love, I believe in fucking’? They’re just words and mean nothing?” He glares at me so I come up with another one, not feeling so pathetic anymore. “Or how about ‘I don’t do boyfriends’? Everyone knows now how much bullshit that one was.”

“Shut up,” he snips with another glare, but I’m on a roll now…

“Ooh, ooh…or my all time favorite ‘the guy I fuck more than once’?” And now I can’t help but laugh.

“Hey! That was a good one, asshole.” His glare is fading and his lips are starting to curl up a bit. He knows.

“Yeah well, it was original, I’ll give you that. But you’re right. Just words. ‘It’s all bullshit. It means nothing’. I learned a long time ago to not listen to your bullshit mantras.”

“Not everything I say is bullshit, you know.” He sits backs and turns back to the TV, but he’s not really paying attention to it.

“Yeah, I know.” I lean back too, right next to him and his arm goes around me.

“But none of that has anything to do with what I was saying about marriage and this movie.” He gestures to the screen and I turn to look. It’s showing the couple apart and how unhappy they are now that they aren’t together anymore. I remember feeling that way. It was awful. I wonder if that’s how Brian felt. He squeezes my shoulder a little.

“Justin, look…” he starts to say then pauses and I realize that I don’t like this. He doesn’t know that I get it, that I feel the same way he does. He’s still so sure that I want something more and that he has to explain himself once again. He’s so worried that I might leave again. “…you got a scrap of metal placed around your finger and what did that you get you in the long run?”

I wince immediately. I don’t really want to answer and I don’t think I need to. He knows what that got me or he wouldn’t be trying to use it to prove his point. He takes my hand in his and rubs on my finger, the one that the ring was on for those few short days. I’m watching him caress it then it occurs to me, there was something very positive that I got from that ring. I got understanding. The understanding that I have now. The understanding of what it is that I truly want. I don’t want a ring; I want a partner, a real one. I want Brian and odd as it is, that is exactly what that ring got me … in the long run. It got me Brian, as a real partner.

I smile and look up at him, pressing my forehead against his. He smiles back out of habit. My smiles can be infectious; he can’t help himself. I answer his question… 

“You.”

He snorts and interlaces our fingers, pushing our hands around in circles in the air. He’s playing and I feel all goofy. “You had me before.”

I feel this thud in my gut and this big boom in my ears. I can’t seem to take a breath. Since I can’t breathe and can’t think of anything to say; I have no other use for my mouth, so I kiss him. And he doesn’t let me go. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that the couple in the movie have found their way back to each other and are doing what we’re doing. The credits roll, I close my eyes and enjoy his mouth… remnants of dinner and all.

Several minutes later and now desperate to take a breath, I break away with a loud gasp then a deep sigh. He chuckles and pushes me down on the bed. “So… I must’ve played my cards right, huh?”

A flicker of recognition crosses my mind… I had let him kiss me. I start laughing but not for long, he kisses me again and I let him lay himself out on top of me. The bed’s shifting underneath us, and it’s not sitting too well with my full stomach. But I don’t want to stop either. We’re grinding and groping and gnawing… see? We didn’t even get to the porn. Who needs Jeff Stryker on TV when you have Brian Kinney in the flesh? 

I push up and flip us over. I straddle his hips and rub my hands up and down his chest then lean in for more kissing. Pushing in forcibly, my tongue dominates his mouth. I really love kissing him. He moans and it makes me even more hungered. My hands roam his sides, tracing the outline of his rib cage. So good, so smooth, so firm and tight. He is too skinny, but I wouldn’t want him any other way. I move to his nipples and tweak them taut then pull on the tiny tufts of hair that surround them. They get bumpy with chills and I break the kiss, smiling. He’s panting…I love it.

“I’m feelin’ lucky, Brian,” I tell him. I pull on the hair some more and pinch his hardened nipples while rubbing my ass against his groin.

“Mmm, yes. I can see that. I’m feeling like a bath.”


	10. Honeymooners, The

Chapter 10: The Bubble Bath I  
Rub A Dub Dub…  
Rated: R 

I immediately stop all movement. “Huh?” I ask in confusion and he laughs. I’m so stunned that he easily pushes me off of him and gets out of the bed. I give him some of my best seduction moves and he wants to take a bath? Brian doesn’t do baths. But I’m sitting here; and sure as shit Brian goes to the big sunken tub and turns on the water. He looks at the different bottles sitting on the ledge, picks one and pours it in. A bubble bath? I look around for a hidden camera. 

He pushes his sweats off, walks out of the bedroom, smiling at me as he goes by, comes back with the black box of condoms and a tube of lube in his hands. He doesn’t look at me but stops at the multiple switch controller on the wall, turns off the switch for the television and the room goes black. A few more flips of some of the switches that we haven’t tried yet and he finds one that turns on a red spot light above the tub. It’s a heater, but illuminates this awesome reddish glow over the bubbles. A very sexy glow. 

He smiles, then walks back to the tub, sets the condom box and the lube on the ledge, checks the temperature of the water then climbs in, easing himself in slowly, putting on a big show. The tub’s about half full now. I groan, despite myself. I don’t think I can move because I still haven’t.

“You coming?” he asks shaking me from my daze and reminding me what was happening just before I zoned out.

I furrow my eyebrows. “Brian, I was trying to seduce you. Remember, you said if I was….”

He interrupts me as usual. “Didn’t you tell me when I took you to the baths the first time that you were disappointed?”

“Yeah,” I answer with big grin on my face, realizing now, the point to his sudden bath urges and loving the fact that he remembered. I climb off the bed and take off my shirt. 

“Well,” he smirks and pulls his lips in. I push my shorts off and kick them across the room. “You can feel lucky in here.” 

Have I said how much I love this man? 

“Music?” I ask him heading to the electronic gadget cabinet.

“Yeah, something … oh, I don’t care, you pick. But none of that …” 

“I know, I know,” I say cutting him off for a change. He wants mood music, but no violins. Amazingly enough that can actually be difficult sometimes. Who knew there were so many violins used on soft or romantic type music? I had never paid attention to it before but now, every time I step into an elevator, I hear Brian’s words echo in my ears … ‘and you are never to play violin music in my presence again’ and then I close my eyes and see the look on his face projected on the back of my eyelids. The slightly smug-ish grin, the arched eyebrow and the unmistakably real pain in his eyes. And every time, the lump that formed in my throat that night in his office, the one that caused me to only be able to mutter my promise with a whisper, forms again and I have to swallow it away.

I look over at him, slunk back in the tub, bubbles building all around him and I wonder if that’s why he insisted that my mother find him office space in a one-story building or if not one-story, then space on the ground floor… no elevators to deal with. He opens one eye sensing I’m staring at him.

“What?”

I smile, “Nothing.”

“Then hurry the fuck up.”

I huff at him. The music console is labeled by style of music. Rock, opera, country … I select romance and Luther Vandross begins bellowing out of the surround sound speakers. I adjust the volume to a comfortable level and start closing the cabinet door.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. Could you be more lesbianic?”

My lips curl up a bit. “Ahhh, come on. It’s romantic.”

He’s shaking his head. “Well, I can’t fuck to that shit. You want my dick to go soft?”

“Umm, Brian, since I’ll be doing the fucking, I don’t know that it matters what ‘your’ dick can or can’t do. Mine is perfectly capable of maintaining itself to Luther.”

“Yeah well, your laissez-faire dick could fuck to chopsticks, mine, on the other hand, has taste.”

“Taste’s good,” I crow, wiggling my eyebrows at him and licking my lips. “Mmm, mmm.”

He laughs. “Just change the fucking channel.”

“Grumpy,” I mumble under my breath.

“I heard that, Dopey!”

“More like Happy,” I grin big, stroking myself back to life. He pulls his lips in watching my exhibition. 

“Certainly can’t be mistaken as Bashful. However…” He holds up one hand with his index finger pointing straight up as if he just had this new thought. “…pale skin and all, you could pass for Snow White herself.” He pauses and puts his hand down; my hand seems to make its way to my hip. Then he adds as almost an afterthought. “She was a big time slut.”

My mouth drops open and my hip jets out to the side. It’s almost sacrilegious to call a children’s fairy-tale heroine a slut! “She was not!” I yell back at him to defend Snow White’s virtue … a little higher in pitch than intended. That tends to happen when I get bubbly so I close my mouth, clear my throat and give him a stern ‘I’m not pleased with your attitude’ glare.

He turns to look at me then ‘pfffts’ between his teeth, laughing at me. I look down and notice my stance. Christ, why do I do that? I straighten up quickly. “Hey! And neither am I!” I quickly add, realizing he’d compared me to her just before he called her a slut.

He laughs again. “She was too! Hello? She lived with seven horny old men, all short, ugly and with a variety of personality disorders. They probably hadn’t been laid in like, well… never! Of course she was a slut.”

Okay, point taken there. I furrow my eyebrows. “Hmmm, maybe. But I don’t; I live with just ONE!” He shoots me a glare. Ha! “Besides, she had black hair and I’m a blond. AND I’m NOT a girl!” Then I show him my Snow-Whitey white dick with a slight pink hue just to remind him of that fact by holding it with one hand off to the side and waving my other hand in front of it like it’s the next prize up for bidding on The Price is Right.

He growls, “Mmm. All this talk of horny old men and sluts and displays of your manhood is making me hard.” His hand disappears into the sea of bubbles and I stroke myself just a little more. 

“You’re such a perv.”

“And you’re wasting time. Are you gonna fix the music and get in here with me or what?”

“I’m gonna get in there with you and I’ll change the channel, but I’m pushing the ‘Easy Listening’ button and no matter what’s playing, that’s what we’re listening to. Got it?”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes.

So I push the ‘easy listening’ button and a slow ballad engulfs the room. It’s a mixture of male voices singing something about rain. The Temptations, I think, I’m not really sure, but that’s what we’re going with. I’m tired of standing out here and would much rather be in there with him. Besides, it’s just background.

I stalk in his direction like a predator. He’s watching me. I love when he watches … his eyes get glazed over and darken. They’re dripping with lust. But there’s a gleam underneath that’s only there when he’s watching me come to him. I’ve seen his ‘I want to fuck you’ look when he’s on the hunt at Babylon, but that’s all it is. Behind it, it’s empty. This look is different. It’s just for me. I can feel his gaze on every inch of my body, like a heated blanket. It makes me warm all over. 

I climb up the steps of the tub and just as I’m about to maneuver in between his legs, he leans forward and scoots to the center. I put my hand on his shoulder and get in behind him. I ease down into the water putting one leg on each side of him then lean back. The porcelain is cold on my back and makes me hiss. I touch his shoulders, pulling him back to me and he rests his head in the crook of my neck. 

The tub is already full and the addition of my body causes the bubbles to ooze over onto the ledge. I scoop them back in around us, wanting as many bubbles as possible. Brian reaches up with his foot and turns the knobs to shut the water off. 

The smell of his sandalwood shampoo wafts up to my nose and I turn my head, burying my face in his hair to breathe it in deeply. His hair smells so good. That scent has been associated with Brian in my memory bank since that very first night. I can be in a crowd of people and catch a whiff of sandalwood; my mind instantly jumps to thoughts of Brian, followed by a smile, a set of chills and a twitch in my pants. Every time. 

He tilts his head away from me a little and I kiss his temple with a grin. It bugs him when I sniff around on him, but I do it anyway. It’s just one of the things he has to learn to live with. He doesn’t complain anymore like he used to, but he does squirm. But regardless of how he acts about it; it’s turned out to be one of my habits that he’s adopted himself too. I’m not sure he realizes it, but every now and then, I catch him smelling me too. I don’t back away though ‘cause I know what it means. Besides, if there’s a scent on me that makes his mind flicker to thoughts of me when I’m not around, that can only be a good thing. A real good thing.

I pick up one of the rolled up washcloths out of the basket that’s been placed on the ledge and dip it into the water to soak it then move it over his chest. I gently wash him, traipsing the cloth over and around one nipple then the other then down over his stomach. 

His hands are caressing my legs, up and down and over my knees. 

I immerse the cloth again then wring it out onto his shoulder. I observe the water stream down over the rounded mound of flesh then change direction when it reaches the curvature in his arm just above his bicep. I lean over to kiss his shoulder just as he grabs my ankles and pulls my legs up to wrap them around him. 

The pull scoots me a little; my butt squeaks as it starts to move across the porcelain then slides the rest of the way so fast that I collide into him, squishing my balls against his back. I smile against his neck and he starts playing with my feet that are now resting on his thighs. He draws circled patterns over my ankles and traces the lifelines on the bottom.

It’s ticklish, of course, but because it’s sexy in its intent; I’m able to hold steady and not jerk them away. We’re just lazily fondling and exploring each other’s body. It’s relaxing and hypnotic. And with the exception that ‘Sitting by the Dock of the Bay’ is now playing in the background, it’s everything I thought it would be and we haven’t even gotten to the real sex part.

“So this is taking a bubble bath, huh?” he asks, breaking our silence.

“Yeah, it’s nice, isn’t it?” I reach for the soap, twirl it around in my hand to get a lather then work it into the cloth to soap it up. I paint his chest in soapy bubbles with gentle brush strokes.

“I guess,” he shrugs, wiggling each of my toes like ‘this little piggy’.

“You don’t like it?” I drag the cloth upward to wash around his neck and under his chin.

He makes a heavy sigh. “It’s kind of boring.”

“Brian!” I slap his chest, not hard, but my wet hand connects with his wet skin with a loud splat making it sound a lot worse than it is and leaving a clearly defined hand print in the soap. 

“What? I just remember bath time being kind of fun when I was a kid. Can I help it if you’re putting me to sleep with all this lovey-dovey stuff?” I submerge the cloth and rinse away the soap on his chest, erasing my handprint in the process then I snuggle against his ear, giving him little nibbles.

“You like my lovey-dovey stuff. Don’t lie.” He’s still playing with my toes, wiggling each one three times until he gets to my baby toe. The wiggle for that little guy is faster, stronger and lasts longer. Then he moves over to the big toe on my other foot and starts again with the three wiggles each. Definitely playing This Little Piggy, I’m almost singing it in my head as he goes. I can’t help but smile. 

“Borrrrrring.” He’s soooo lying.

I roll my eyes to myself since he can’t see my face then push the cloth further down his body. When I reach his hairline, I toss the cloth aside and slide the rest of the way with my hand. He’s already hard, more proof that he’s not really bored. I stroke him a few times then ask, “Is this boring?”

“No. That’s the fun part I was talking about.”

“Eww. Someone jerked you off in the bath when you were a kid? That’s just sick.”

He laughs. “No, you debauchee. I did it myself.”

“You were masturbating that young? Like 6 or 7 or something?”

“Yeah,” and he’s cracking up at the absurdity.

“Explains a lot.”

He huffs at me. “What’d you do? Play with boats?”

“NO! Well … yeah. Shut up.”

“Now, THAT explains a lot.” 

I slug his arm and grab the washcloth. I lift it up, full of water and dripping and squeeze every last drop out right on top of his head, laughing all the while. “Is that fun?”

He pushes my legs off of him and flips around in the tub so fast the water sloshes over the side. His hair is half wet and half dry and he’s got water dripping off his nose in that sexy kind of way. I want to reach up and suck it off but he’s also got this devilish gleam in his eye, so I don’t. A quick rush of worry looms over me.

“No. This is fun!” And he grabs my legs and yanks me roughly. Before I can grab the side of the tub, I’m underwater, thrashing around trying to get my bearings. I’m finally able to sit back upright and I can’t help but start laughing after I catch my breath. I splutter the soapy water out of my mouth and wipe the bubbles from my eyes. I’ve got my face all scrunched up from laughing and trying to keep the bubbles out of my eyes. 

He’s laughing too. “Now, you look like Sneezy.” When I can finally open my eyes and see, I splash him. He grabs my arms before I can do it again and kisses me. Well, kind of kisses me, it’s more like a mashing of our mouths or a tangling of our tongues. But I still get lost in its urgency. Talk about zero to sixty.


	11. Honeymooners, The

As soon as I start moaning, he pulls away. I’m out of breath, panting big pants. I want more. He moves his hand to my face, sweeping the bearded bubbles from my chin and brushing all the piles off my head with both hands. “There, that’s better.”

I take his wrists and place his hands on the side of the tub. “Turn around.” I’m hornier than a horny toad and it’s evident in my voice. That came out not only firm but throaty enough to be sexy.

He smiles, leans over to kiss me, then does exactly what I told him to do, getting up on his knees and leaning against the side, resting on his elbows. He reaches for the box of condoms and tosses it to me over his head.

I open the box and pull one out. I place it between my teeth to rip it open but my fingers are wet and I can’t get a good grip on the damn thing. I toss the box aside so I can use both hands. Shit! What is the deal with all of our condom problems today? I’ve got a hold of it in both hands and it’s twisting between my teeth. The corner is bending and folding, but not tearing. I’m growling in frustration.

Brian looks over his shoulder and laughs. 

“My hands are wet,” I explain through a clenched jaw. He reaches his hand up to take it from me and I turn my head away. I can open a fucking condom, damn it!

I see the basket of towels and lunge for it, leaving the chastity belt of a condom wrapper dangling from my mouth. I dry my hands and rip the slippery packet open with a grunt. I pull the disc out carefully as if it was the most valuable find in North America; I don’t want to have to try to open another one. I hold it out to Brian so he can take it from me.

“Here.”

He shakes his head. “It’s your show.”

Oh, so I won’t let him help open it and now he’s got an attitude about it? “Brian! Here! Put it on me!” I gripe at him, obviously still a little worked up over having to put up such a fight to retrieve the damn thing.

“Demanding little shit, aren’t you?” he asks but he’s grinning. He grabs the lube and shifts around in the water, sloshing more over the side. We trade off supplies and he motions with his hands for me to rise up. I get up on my knees and just like the dorsal fin of a shark, the head of my cock breaches the surface. It’s covered with bubbles so Brian wipes them off but the tub is so full and so deep that the rest of me is still underwater. 

“Up.”

I stand up. He grabs the towel I used to dry my hands and dries my dick off then tosses the towel back on the ledge. 

“Wouldn’t want chafing, would we?” He grins up at me. I run my fingers through his hair. There’s something about having Brian on his knees right in front of me that really turns me on. My dick jumps in his face to get his attention.

“Put it on me.”

He kisses the head and scoops out the pre-cum I’m leaking with his tongue; he growls softly at the taste of me and of course, I gasp. He smiles, pinches the tip of the condom, puts it against me then slowly, and I mean slowly, unrolls it down my shaft with great care, precision and concentration. I’m mesmerized watching him; inch by inch, just a little bit at a time … it’s so fucking hot. 

He shrugs his shoulders and pulls his lips in then says, “You really need to learn how to dress yourself.” His lips curl up and his tongue slides into his cheek. 

And for some strange reason, I flash back to being a kid and my mom buttoning up my raincoat before I headed off to school and then to my birthday last year, when Brian tied my tie for me before pushing me out the door to go get some culture with Mel and Lindz. There’s something very sexy about it. Makes me feel safe and protected. And loved. 

“I like it better when you do it,” I admit in a hoarse whisper. I’m so fucking hard right now.

“Hmm, I’m sure.” When his fingers reach the end, he moves underneath my cock and fumbles with my balls. I back away. Shit, I almost came right then. He grins at me.

I clear my throat and toughen my face; at least I think I look tough. Anyway… “Turn around and bend over. I want your ass in the air,” I demand in a stern voice. He likes it when I get assertive.

“Bossy,” he grumbles under his breath, but he goes without protest. 

I slink back into the water on my knees, in between his legs. His back’s dry already so I scoop up and splash some water on him to wet him back down. I want his skin slick and slippery. I run my hand up and down his back checking the glide effect then slide my hand over his ass before dipping underneath the water to grab his balls. I knead them gently at first then a little rougher until he groans.

I give them one final squeeze then drag my finger over the sensitive path that leads from his balls to his anus. I circle the knotted flesh with my finger then press a little in the center then circle again. He tightens then relaxes to my touch. I push just the tip of my index finger inside. He hisses and drops his head. The soapy water works somewhat like a lubricant, but I’m sure it still pinched. I pull it back out, tease around the outside then push it back in. Again, just the tip and he bucks his hips. His hole grips my finger and squeezes around it. I wiggle it, just the slightest little bit. 

I flick the cap of the lube open, lay the tube on the ledge and use my palm to squeeze some onto my fingers, one-handed. Being ambidextrous certainly has its advantages.

Flattening the palm of my hand against his cheeks, I lift him up with my finger still dipped inside him. He follows the silent command of my nudge and when his ass comes out of the water, I pull that finger out and replace it with the two lubed ones of my other hand. He breathes in, knowing it’s coming and I push them inside him all the way. 

His head rears up, “Christ!” I caress his lower back and push him back into the water then slowly start fucking him with my fingers.

I love the way he feels inside. His outer ring of muscle clenches and squeezes my fingers but inside, it’s roomy and warm. The soft, cushy walls feel like fluffy pillows, yet moist and slick, like an inflatable raft that squishes when you press it but then quickly recovers. If I could crawl inside there and bounce around, I can imagine it would be similar to one of those old moon bouncers at the state fair. And the way it feels against my skin, on the pads of my fingers, well, I just hope that one day another part of my body could experience this little slice of heaven.

I move them around; bending them this way and that way, stroking the inner walls of his rectum. I’m giving him an internal massage and he can’t help but drift off into some other place. At least that’s how I feel when he does it to me. And I’m sure the fact that ‘Sailing Away’ is now playing only adds to the lazy, sleepy feeling that his body is already succumbing to.

He’s murmuring quietly and I want to hear him. I lean my head against his back to drown out Christopher Cross and let the low rumbles of his voice accented by the thump-thump of his heart vibrate in my ear. But I don’t lean my head on him just for that, I also do it, because frankly, I’m getting dizzy and need to ground myself. Something his voice always seems to accomplish. 

I twist my hand over and probe around, blinding searching for the bump of his prostate. I find it, stroke it, give it a tap and his body jerks him awake.

“Fuck!” he screams at me and I get this twinge inside me as if his scream tapped on mine. My body jerks too. I do it again, and again, he yells out making my ass clench in the knowledge of what he’s feeling. It’s like we’re tied together somehow and I’m somewhat amazed at what playing with him, is doing to me. It’s a jolt like no other, not bad, but electrifying. It makes you stand up and take notice and sometimes, just sometimes, it can be so fucking intense that you just can’t stand it. Like your body just can’t process what it’s feeling so it reacts but you still want more.

I do it again … a circling caress then tap, tap, tap … I can feel it inside and I’m almost gone. The touch on my finger travels up my arm, through my body, and lights up my insides with a zap. He bolts upright, his shoulder blade hitting me hard in the head and making such a big wave that I almost fall over from the force of the swell and being caught off guard. “Jesus Christ, Justin!” he screams and reaches back, grabbing my wrist to make me stop.

I reach for his shoulder to regain my balance then comb my fingers through his hair. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but shit,” is all he says.

I smile and drag my fingers down his back, over the pointy mountains of his shoulder blades, the bumpy hills down his spine and into the little valleys of his dimples just above his ass then back up to the center of his back, where I push him back over the side of the tub. “Yeah, I know,” I tell him … because I do. And he lets go of my wrist.

I slide my fingers in and out a few more times; he’s relaxed and opened now. So I pull them out, position my sheathed cock at his entrance, grab his hips and slowly ease into him. I slide in like a snail, giving him time to adjust before I’m fully buried. He moans the whole way in and I bite my bottom lip.

My stomach presses against his ass, I rotate my hips, his muscles flex around me. He grips the side of the tub and pushes back. “Go,” his scratchy voice tells me so I pull out all the way.

When the head pops out, his hole pinches the tip of my cock and I push in again with a little more force. It snaps tight on my shaft once the bulbous head breaks through. He grunts and I hiss a prolonged ‘yessss’. I set a slow methodical rhythm, rocking all the way in then pulling all the way out with each thrust, keeping the water churning around us.

“It’s so tight, Brian, god, it feels so good.” He leans forward every time I pull back and then we slam into each other in the middle. Each collision getting more fierce in its impact.

“Faster,” he orders so I pick up speed. 

The water starts to really swirl and crest. It’s reaching up the side of the tub, each one of our thrusts enabling it to jump higher and higher. I’m fighting against his whams and the force of the stormy water; I grip his hips tighter to hold on. ‘Rock the Boat’ comes over the sound system and all I can think of is ‘that’s exactly what this feels like.’ A rocking boat that’s about to capsize.

My knees squeak on the bottom of the tub when I lunge forward, pushing me back and off balance. My feet hit the tub wall behind me and I use it to push off with my toes to propel me back forward. Propel me back into the depths of his ass. Over and over. It feels so fucking good.

“Harder,” he demands through labored breaths. He pushes back hard, his knees make fragmented screeches on the porcelain. The water finally reaches to the top and a big wave crests and sloshes then throws itself over the edge. His hands slip and squeak, he’s in full thrust, trying to get a good grip. I quickly hook my hands over his shoulders to catch him then drive him forward. I pull back and surge again; another wave pours over the side and onto the steps. 

His chest crashes down on the hard surface, pushing out a loud grunt. “Fuck!” he barks, still trying to get control. I push down on his back to hold him in place. I thrash into him with every wave of water that cascades down the side. We’re in a rickety boat in the middle of a hurricane and we’re desperately trying to hang on to each other. He grabs my thigh and my hip, draws my dick into his ass, deeper … I snake my arm under his arm and around his chest, lift him up, pull him back to me. Thoughts of ‘hold on, don’t rock, don’t tip’ swimming through my head. 

His head drops to my shoulder, his mouth hung open, his chest heaving under my hand. I reach around with my free hand, wrap my fist around his cock and start jerking it in rhythm with each crashing thrust. Moans and incoherent words escape from his lips immediately. God, I love it when he talks to me like this. I tug harder and plunge deeper. The water slaps our skin as we buck together.

I feel his body tense, he’s close. I lick and suck on the meaty part of his neck then kiss his cheek. He turns his head and our mouths meet in this awkward kind of sideways kiss but its hot and hungered and we both need it so badly that it doesn’t matter that our lips aren’t touching on all sides or that ours tongues are wagging in the air trying to find the other… it doesn’t matter… just trying and partially succeeding is all that’s important right now.

He turns away when the strain gets to be too much. “Oh, damn, ahhh!”

“You ready?” I ask him. He grunts and nods his head to reply. I place my mouth on his neck, suck in the extra flesh and gnaw it with my teeth while I give a few more tugs and deep plunges to finish him off.

His body begins to shake and convulse and his grip on my ass tightens… there’ll be a bruise there for sure tomorrow. His ass clamps down on my dick as his orgasm takes him away and the building storm inside him unleashes it fury, raining hot fluid out the tip of his dick and over the side of the tub, then on top of a mound of bubbles. The weight of the rope of cum splits the mound in half, creating a canyon that swallows it up whole. The last spurt of his orgasm coats my fingers. 

I squeeze my eyes shut and fight to stay inside him. The force of his orgasm is pushing me out, ‘hold on, hold on’. Again he squeezes on my ass, pulling my cheeks apart, stretching my hole open with a sting and the sensation sends me nose diving off the cliff right behind him. I’m stifling my wails into his neck as my balls spasm, and the cum erupts and spills into the condom. I feel thankful that we got the good condoms because I’m just not so sure the cheap-ass Trojans could have held up against the sheer force of my cum blasting its way out of me. I don’t know that I’ve ever shot so hard in my life. I hold on and ride out the remaining waves… the water is licking up the side of the tub still, but the seas have calmed tremendously. 

Exhausted, he leans against me but I’m too tired to hold us up… we topple over and splash down into the tub that is now only half full. We sort of semi-sink to the bottom, sort of semi-float on top … just gently rock and sway, trying to slow our heartbeats and regulate our breathing.

We’re silent, not talking, just basking in the after-sex glow like we always do. He arches his back and I know what he means. I worm my hand in between us and hold onto the ends of the condom as I pull my shrinking erection out of him. He ‘hrmphs’ a half grunt, half sigh and falls back down into the water. I remove the full and stretched out piece of latex and toss it on the ledge of the tub. That’s two condoms that I can’t forget to pick up before we leave. I settle back down, caressing his arm, kissing his back.

The music changes again and Brian starts laughing immediately. “What the fuck kind of shit is this?”

I start laughing too and cover my face with my hands. ‘Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head’ bellows out of the speakers. BJ Thomas. Christ! My mom used to listen to him.

“He really needs your help, Brian. Mr. Martin’s permanently stuck in the ‘70’s.”

“He’s permanently stuck somewhere, that’s for sure. He may be beyond my help. I’m good at advertising and as much as I hate to admit it, I am not God, there is only so much one man can do. Even me.” I weakly punch his arm, we’re both laughing so hard.

And I think. The Temptations and that first rain-something song, then Dock of the Bay, Sailing Away, Rock the Boat, and now this piece of shit pop song. And it hits me.

“Oh my god! Brian! Every fucking song is about water. Rain, docks, boats, storms. Aquatic Honeymoon only plays aquatic songs!”

We double over in laughter, Brian’s ass slips on the slick porcelain, he crashes into the side of the tub, hitting his head, I cringe but he’s still laughing hysterically. I put my hand on his head and rub the spot, but I can’t help but keep laughing too. Mr. Martin is in some serious need of Brian’s help. No doubt about it.

Brian’s half laughing and half grimacing now and his hand joins mine rubbing his head. I guess the pain just registered. 

“Fucking breeders. I’m amazed the population didn’t die out ages ago if this is the shit they listen to for procreation.” He pushes my hand away and stands up. The water drains off him in tiny rivulets running down his body then drip from his nose, his fingertips and his dick. He pushes the lever to open the drain stopper and the water starts slurping through the tiny drain holes. I guess we’re getting out; the water is getting kind of cold. 

“I can’t listen to this any longer,” he says matter of factly then steps out over the edge onto to the steps, reaches for a towel and wraps it around his waist. I get up and do the same.

He walks over to the multiple switch plate on the wall and flips the switch to turn off the music. “Ahh, the sounds of silence,” he sighs with a smirk.

“Ooh, I know that one!” I tell him with a snicker.

“I’m sure you do.” He walks up to me and takes a hold of my towel.

“Hey, what’s that supposed…” I trail off when my towel falls away without any effort whatsoever.

He fluffs it in his hands then dries me off. Patting me down all over, my chest, my shoulders, my arms, then spinning me around and doing the same to my back and my ass before spinning me back around to face him. I watch him drying me. It’s not sexual, it’s just … I don’t know what it is. Strange, comforting, weird, confusing.

He doesn’t look directly at me until he’s drying my cock and balls, then our eyes meet and we just stare at each other. When he’s done, he plants a kiss on me without taking aim on any place in particular so his lips graze my face on the side of my nose, just below my right eye then he pushes the towel into my chest as he says, “Thanks,” and backs away from me.

I take the towel before it falls to the ground and stand there… bewildered and dumbfounded. Thanks for what? Making him take a bubble bath? Fucking him? Soothing his bumped head? Letting him dry me? What?

He goes back to the switches and turns off the red heater above the tub. The room goes pitch black. I hear another switch and the bright overhead light goes on. I squint my eyes, he huffs and turns it back off. Darkness again. Another switch and a soft blue spotlight comes on over the bed. It’s so dim that it looks like stars shining in the night but at the same time it gives off this strange blue hue. I guess it’s supposed to be like under the ocean or something. 

He goes over to the bed, drops his towel and looks over at me. I still haven’t moved. “Tired?” he asks me.

“Yeah,” I answer and nod.

He pulls back the duvet and sheets and climbs in. “Come here.”

I toss the towel I’m still gripping in my hands and make my way over to the same side that he was on. I lean over and shake my wet hair over him. He growls and reaches up, combing his fingers through it and brushing it off my face. I smile and he scoots over to the middle then holds the covers up for me. I climb in and lay down on my back next to him. He leans over and we kiss gently then he pulls away with a ‘mmphf’. He nudges my shoulder so I turn onto my side and he spoons up behind me, slipping an arm under my neck and the other one over my waist.

“Brian?”

“Yeah?”

“That was nice.”

He doesn’t answer but I feel his lips on my shoulder and his hand flatten out on my stomach so I know he agrees.


	12. Honeymooners, The

We’re lying in silence for what seems like a long time, his hand drawing circles around my navel. I’m getting sleepy and I close my eyes. “Justin, you remember when I got the Clio Award?”

“Yeah.” 

I’m almost hesitant to answer because I’m not sure why he’s suddenly wanting to talk about something from so long ago.

“Know where it is now?”

I think for a minute and seriously can’t recall that I’ve ever seen it again after he got it, so I shake my head.

“It’s in my bottom desk drawer at the office.”

“Why? Aren’t you proud of it?”

“It’s not about not being proud of it. I didn’t need it. I didn’t need it to know.”

I open my eyes, wide awake again. ‘Cause now it’s clear. He has to talk about this in the only way he can … as something else. I guess he’s not satisfied about our earlier conversation. Funny how he’s the one that keeps bringing up the subject of marriage this weekend and how much he doesn’t need it; makes me wonder who he’s trying to convince. 

But regardless, I have to pay attention so I’ll know what it all means. Just like when I got him to take me back, I play along with ‘Mr. Kinney and his business talk’. 

“To know what?”

“That I was successful, that I was the best and that Ryder valued me.”

“But getting that award is what told you that you’re the best.” 

“No, it wasn’t. Getting the clients that I set out to get told me. Bringing money into the agency time after time. That’s what told me.” 

Because he came home to me night after night, by three, because that’s what he wanted to do? That’s how I was supposed to know?

“But getting the award told everyone else.” 

You know, it was an ego thing. I wanted to be special. At the time I did want everyone else to know, who I was, what I was.

“When did I ever give a fuck about what everyone else knows or thinks?”

I want to say, ‘All the time.’ But I don’t. Instead I say, “I guess what you know is what’s important.”

“Right.” 

Of course, I see that now, but back then, I didn’t know. How could I know?

“So what you’re clients know or what they think doesn’t matter at all?”

“No, it doesn’t. Not as long as I give them what they are paying for. Give them what they need.” 

But I wasn’t getting what I needed.

“What if you’re not giving them what they need?”

“Then they go somewhere else.” 

I squeeze my eyes shut to dull out the sharp pain that just stabbed me in the heart. I knew he’d go there.

“And that’s okay with you?” 

There’s a small quiver in my voice … I swallow and take a deep breath, a little unsure that I want to hear the answer.

“Of course not.” Thank god. I blow the air out in relief. “If they go somewhere else, then I don’t get what I need. Which is their money in my bank account.” 

Or their voice whispering in your ear or their dirty clothes in your laundry or their laughter in your heart or their body in your bed or their dick in your mouth … there’s lots of things you don’t get. He brushes my hair off my face and flicks it between his fingers. Feels nice.

“So if you don’t need the award to convince them that you’re the best, then what? How do you make sure they don’t go somewhere else?”

“It’s the basic principle of advertising. It’s up to me to show people that what I can do for them is exactly what they need even though they may not realize it, because sometimes they just don’t know. That’s what it takes. Showing them what I have to offer and proving it’s the best thing for them, not some award sitting on a shelf collecting dust. It’s a symbol that means nothing.” 

That goddamn fucking ring! I wish he’d never seen the damn thing. I don’t want a ring … I didn’t really even want the one Ethan gave me. I distinctly remember feeling stupid and just a tad nauseous when he put it on my finger. I gotta turn this conversation around … 

“Brian?” I pick up his hand that’s jetting out from underneath my neck and start playing with his fingers.

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever failed to show a client that what you had to offer was what they needed?” I trace the outline of his fingers. He has beautiful hands … long fingers. And the things he can do with them. Mmm.

He lets out a small sigh. “Just once.”

I kiss each finger, one at a time. “How come?”

“The client was a real stickler. He wanted me to wine and dine him, to woo him away from the other offer.” 

I smile. I have been known to be quite persistent and very stubborn.

“And you didn’t?” 

Of course he didn’t, he’s more stubborn than me.

“Nuh uh.” I feel his chin graze the top of my head as he shakes his head with his answer. 

I flatten my palm up against his. His hand is bigger.

“Why not? Was his account not important enough?” 

Please say that I was. He spreads my fingers open and tucks each one of his in between them.

“Oh, he was important enough.” I’m smiling. “But I had my pride and he wanted more that I was willing to provide at the time. He needed to try the other agency before he could really see what my campaign was all about.” 

You know how the saying goes… If you love someone, set them free…

“And did he finally realize it?” A big fat YES, please. His hand squeezes around mine.

“Yeah, but by that time, I had decided the campaign that I had chosen wasn’t really effective to achieve his goals so I modified it.” 

That’s true, he had changed, but I’d wanted him back even before I knew that. The fact he’d ‘modified his campaign’ was just an added bonus for me.

“You don’t think he would have come back if you hadn’t modified the campaign?”

“Maybe he would have. Yeah, I guess so; he did call for an appointment before he knew anything about the modifications. But it didn’t matter. I still knew the campaign had to be altered.” 

Good for me.

“And you got the account?”

“Yep.” 

He sure did. I came back, and as the saying goes... I’m his to keep now. 

“Pretty risky, don’t you think?”

“Pretty stupid actually,” he answers with a huff.

I couldn’t agree more. It was a stupid gamble. What if Ethan hadn’t cheated on me? I probably would have gone on pretending. I shudder. I don’t want to think about it but I’m thankful he did, if truth be known now.

“Would you do it different next time?” 

I know I would.

“Hopefully there won’t be a next time.” He kisses the back of my neck and pulls me closer against his body.

“Brian? Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about Clio Awards and advertising clients anymore?” 

Now … he can run for cover or he can fess up.

“Ummm, because you got 1500 on your SATs?” I huff with relief again. He’s not running.

“Well, I don’t think there’ll be a next time.” I reassure him by squeezing his hand.

“Glad to hear it.”

I’m smiling even though he doesn’t know. “But I bet that client’s still a stickler, huh?”

He laughs, his chest rumbling against my back. “Down right pain in the ass, is what he is.”

“Hey!” I nudge him with my elbow and he huffs in mock pain.

“Hey, what? I like pain in the ass. Don’t you?” He smirks, grinding against me. I push my hips back to reciprocate.

“Yeah. But that doesn’t mean that you should forget what you learned from the whole experience. You know, to make sure he stays your client. You gotta protect your investment.”

“I’ll never forget and I always protect my investments.” I feel warm all over and very protected.

“That’s good,” I say in the middle of a yawn. “Brian?”

“Yes, Sleepy?” he mocks, but I don’t let it distract me.

“I think your agency’s gonna be a huge success.” My way of telling him that I love him and that we’re gonna make it. 

He squeezes me and kisses my ear as I close my eyes. 

“I think so too.”

I fall asleep with him wrapped all around me instead of me wrapped around him, and a big smile on my face.


	13. Honeymooners, The

I’m waking, groggy, gently rocking on the bed. There’s movement causing the water to sway but I’m not sure from what. I rub my eyes and as things start to visually come into focus and I become more aware of my surroundings, I realize that there’s something very wet and very warm surrounding my dick. I reach my hands down and they land on a full head of hair. I comb my fingers through it and groan. “Mmmmorning,” I tell him, my voice still dry and raspy. I clear my throat, “Brian.” He says nothing. Goes deeper, sucks harder.

I arch up involuntarily and grip his hair tighter. He lifts up, I fall from his mouth and my dick flops against my belly. I collapse back down on the bed, which creates these monstrous waves that wobble us back and forth. “Mornin’,” he says back to me, kissing my hip with his soft, moist lips then puts his hand on my thigh and pushes me over. I’m too tired to fight it and wouldn’t even if I could. This is the absolute best way to wake up in the morning.

He hovers over me, spreading my cheeks open, and exhales hot breath on my balls and my ass. I sigh and whimper lazily. He licks and probes me just a few times then crawls up and lays along side me. Gripping my thigh again, he rolls me to my side and spoons up behind me. His hot breath now against my neck. I shiver, he rubs my stomach and plays with my pubic hair. I moan deep in my throat and push my head against his shoulder. 

I feel his erection nudging me, sketchily grazing me, pulling the invisible downy hairs on my ass, like a thousand tiny pinches. He’s already wearing a condom, but hasn’t lubed it yet. I wonder how long he’s been awake.

I reach my hand back between us to touch him, to stop the torture. “How long’ve you been awake? You’re dressed already.”

He chuckles softly. “Long enough. You need to catch up.” 

“I’m awake,” I tell him, letting go of him and moving my hand to his ass, pulling him closer to me.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh.” 

His hands are still playing in my hair… above my dick, below my navel. Light circles, going around. Gentle caresses. Tickling. It’s making me so relaxed and lazy.

“You up for something?” he asks quietly against my ear and I open my eyes.

‘Something’ to Brian means new and normally that would be answered with an eager ‘fuck yeah’ but he’s so morose in his tone, in his hand’s movements, that I get the feeling this ‘something’ will be intense. I don’t respond right away. I need to see his face, try to read where his head’s at. I turn my head to look into his beautiful hazel eyes. He’s turned on, the gold speckles that surround his pupils are bright and glowing. His look is comforting and loving but full of lust. He’s questioning me and telling me he won’t hurt me in that look. But I have to answer him, I have to be willing let him take me there. Wherever that is.

“Yes,” I answer with my voice to ensure he knows I’m positive.

His lips brush my cheek with a light feathery kiss and my stomach does a flip-flop. “Okay, hold still,” he instructs me as he backs away from me. 

That’s easier said then done because his movement set off the motion of the water inside the bed. I close my eyes and turn my head back around to wait and ride the small waves that are rippling underneath me. I hear the snap of the cap on the lube then a quiet squirting. The sounds reverberate in my head. They’re familiar and safe. My body responds with arousal. There’s a small fire smoldering inside me. My breathing becomes faster. 

He comes back to me then I feel super slicked fingers pressing into me and I wonder if he used the entire bottle. This ‘something’ must require extra lube. I want to gulp in worry, but I don’t. Instead, I gasp. I always gasp. That initial breakthrough gets me every time. The hairs on my legs stand up.

“Okay?” he asks. 

“Mmm huh,” I answer with a slight moan. 

He’s propped up on one elbow, that hand on my shoulder… holding me, keeping that connection. “Don’t move,” he adds softly against me ear.

I have no intentions of going anywhere, but I’m wondering why he wants to make sure. His fingers slide in and out slowly, I’m sighing with each push in. He curls them inside me and forces them up toward my back. It feels different, more pressured; I murmur my approval… I like it even though it’s kind of strange. He does it again with a bit more strength and my body jolts just a little.

“Just relax,” he whispers. It’s sexy, but ominous. The ‘something’ must not just be the pulling up and curling of his fingers, there must be more and it’s about to happen... I’m just not sure what. The fire in my belly flares up. I pant to fan the flames. There’s heat on my face.

The hand on my shoulder leaves its resting place and I feel suddenly disconnected. I groan in apprehension. The bed shifts and we rock. He grips his cock with the hand that left me; I can feel his knuckles against my ass, then the tip of his cock at my hole. He positions it in place. His fingers slip out of me. I groan again. Then a push in, but it’s not his cock, not as wide, not his fingers, wider than that. It’s in between. It’s inside, it bends and wiggles, pulls up, tugging, tugging, up and up. My body starts to scoot, his hand reconnects with my shoulder, holds me in place and keeps me from going anywhere.

His fingers graze across my ass cheeks and I know. His thumb is what’s causing these sensations to my body. It’s so different from just the standard thrusting… this pull and tug up is touching something. Not my prostate, I don’t know, but it’s there. This full, pressure-like awareness. I’m tingling, I really like it and he’s got me moaning and covering my face with my hands.

There’s a nudge from the tip of his cock. It’s pressing against me. It can’t get in ‘cause his thumb is still there inside me, so he shoves it deeper and lifts up again. More nudging, more pressure. My breath hitches and I hold it. His face is right next to my ear. 

“Breathe, Justin.” I let it out and breathe like he told me to. More tension from his dick, pressing further in, but still not inside. His thumb pulls out then drives in again, bending more inside, pulling up harder… stretching me open. His dick pokes again. More strain. More stretching. Oh, oh, oh. I grip the sheets.

“Brian,” I whimper. I’m panting, a little uneasy… simmering. 

“Justin, you with me?” he asks in a low whisper. I’m not sure, but I trust him so I swallow and nod.

He talks to me, instructs me, says my name… all the right things. 

“Take your hand. Wet it. Lick the palm.”

Little gouges of pressure between each sentence. 

“Slick it up. Wrap it around your cock. Stroke lightly.” 

I do as he says then hold my breath... so much pressure. 

“Feel it?” I do, I feel nothing else, but I don’t answer.

“Justin, you with me?” 

I nod. 

“Breathe.” 

I breathe. 

“Now squeeze your hand. Take a deep breath.” 

His thumb wiggles, adjusts, pulls up again. Stress and strain. More stretching. My god. His dick’s nudging again, it’s pressing harder. It wants inside and it’s not giving up. I breathe in, fill my lungs to capacity… do what he says. Deep breath, squeeze, I can do this. I’m concentrating.

“Squeeze. Hold it.” He grips my shoulder, digging his fingers around my collarbone. He pushes.

I bear down, holding my breath. I squeeze everything, my eyes, my hand, my lungs, my ass. He feels it; he knows I’ve tensed. 

“Hey,” he whispers. “Not your ass, Justin.” 

Oh shit. I huff my embarrassment, emptying my lungs. He wasn’t scolding me or making fun of me, just getting my attention to what I was doing, calling me back into the game. But I can’t help feeling a little stupid. No, he’s not laughing at me, thank god, but my stomach tightens just the same, it’s burning.

He knows how I’m feeling… he always knows. “It’s okay. Relax. Breathe. We’ll start again and this time let me in.” 

I exhale in a whoosh and nod slightly. I pump a few times on my dick. I’m panting. The anticipation is making me so hard. The excitement of some new feeling that I’ve yet to experience… I can’t explain it. I’m scared, nervous… so very scared and nervous. But I’m turned on, over the top turned on. Everything’s heightened; my heart’s pounding so hard. The only things keeping me grounded are his words, my name, softly spoken in my ear with his reassuring voice and that, just like that time in the shower so long ago, I trust him… even more so now… with everything I have… absolute, one hundred percent, complete trust. 

“Justin, you with me?” And he’s right there. Talking to me, holding onto me. He knows. Yes, I’m with him. I wouldn’t be anywhere else. 

“Yes.” I nod more earnestly.

“Okay, deep breath. Hold it. Don’t move. Hold still. Squeeze your hand.” His fingers dig into my skin; his thumb pulls up hard and high, then he pushes… pushes hard and the head of his dick pops inside me like snapping into place.

“Oh, god… oh, god,” I grunt and pant heavily. The grasp on my cock is so tight; it aches. My eyes water and sting.

“Justin. Breathe.” 

I’m breathing. I’m panting. I’m damn near hyperventilating.

“Relax.” 

I try. ‘Say my name again. Talk to me. Please say my name,’ I chant in my head.

“Justin?” 

Like the sound of the crashing waves of the ocean, it calms me. His voice, my name… much slower breaths now. I begin to relax immediately. I loosen the hold on my cock and open my fist slightly. My dick twitches at the release and leaks on my fingers.

“Okay?” 

I bite my bottom lip and nod. 

He waits. I finally completely relax around him. Feels so satiated… not scared at all. Getting better, adjusting.

“Now stroke.” 

He’s gently inching further and further in but doesn’t retreat at all until I start pumping on my cock and then he thrusts in and out of me at the same pace. Mirroring my movements. Letting me set the pace. 

“Yeah, that’s it.” He draws my ear lobe into his mouth, sucking on it, nibbling on it.

This has to be the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. His fingers are resting on the top of one side of my ass and with every thrust in of his dick; he pulls up on his thumb while compressing down with his fingers. It’s like he’s pressing his fingers and his thumb together, but his thumb is inside and his fingers are outside. I feel stretched and full, beyond what I thought possible… but it’s so great.

“Oh, Brian.” I’m still whimpering but it’s not out fear of the unknown any longer, it’s because it’s just so absolutely fucking awesome and unbelievably hot as hell.

He’s moaning uncontrollably. “So fucking tight… I’m gonna get off right away. You with me?” He’s panting in my ear. I don’t answer right away, lost in my own little world of ecstasy. “Justin?”

“Huh?” I say sheepishly.

“Enough?” he asks worried. 

“No, no, no. Never enough. Don’t stop,” I answer in between labored breaths. 

And with that, he pushes deeper and pulls harder on his thumb, bending it more and scrunching the head of his dick right against my prostate. An electric shock bolts through me. My balls draw up, my dick thickens. “Brian?” It’s almost a scream.

“You ready?”

I nod. “Yes, yes, yes.” Now I am screaming. I jerk more determinedly on my shaft. I’m right there…just about to…

He yanks his thumb out of me and like a rubber band that snaps back after being stretched taut, the nerves and muscles surrounding my hole contract around his shaft. Throbbing angrily at the absence. He grabs my hip and shoves his dick so far deep inside me that I can feel it in my throat. The sudden surprise, the contractions, the leftover throbbing; tip the scales and I’m gone. I’m squeezing… squeezing everything… my eyes, my hand, my lungs, my ass. The bed’s thrashing, my body’s convulsing. I shoot all over the place screaming his name. 

His hand slides from my hip to my stomach, the other slides underneath me and wraps around my neck. He draws me to him… every inch of my body pressed up against his. Every inch of his dick buried deep inside me. It pulsates in my ass, his heart pounds against my back. 

“Justin, I can’t fucking breath,” he whispers in my ear. I react quickly, release my dick and move my cum-drenched hand to cover his hand on my stomach. I wedge my fingers between his; he closes his around mine. My sticky jizz glues our hands together. He holds my hand tight, gripping, squeezing, pushing harder against my abdomen. I squeeze my hand tighter too, letting him know that I’m right here with him. He takes in a big gulp of air then he rams in one more time and bites down on my ear lobe. One grunt, two grunts, three... all vibrating in my eardrum. 

Oh my god, I want to do that again.

He doesn’t say anything else; he’s just holding me. Holding me tight. We’re gasping and panting. Trying to stay afloat. The bed rocks; the waves getting softer and softer until it finally stills. 

I don’t want to move but the right side of my body is going numb from lying like this for so long. I straighten my legs out and one knee pops. It’s loud; it breaks the silence and seems to jar him. He releases me and backs up a little. His hand clasped in mine on my belly pries itself from the sticky grasp and slides it to my hip. His other arm unwraps from around my neck and slides out from underneath me. I’m not ready yet. I’ve still got a good squeeze on his dick, keeping him with me and not letting him go. It’s still buried inside me and other than his hands on my hip and my shoulder, that’s our only connection.

He’s softer now, getting kind of squishy and being pulled and stretched as he attempts to break free. I don’t want him to go. I like it like this. If this was night, this is how I would want to go to sleep, but it’s daylight and we need to get the day started so there’s no time to lay here and revel in it. I sigh.

I feel it tug more; I squeeze harder. Not yet, not yet. His hand leaves my hip; his knuckles brush against my ass so I take a deep breath and brace myself. Then he’s gone and I’m left with the dull ache you get when your muscles retract and throb trying to readjust to the loss and the emptiness.

Part of me really hates that feeling because it means that it’s over for now but another sides of me likes it. That ache is like a branding, a reminder of what was once there. I wasn’t exaggerating when I told Daphne that I could still feel him inside me the next day. I could then and have after every time since. I carry that ache with me as long as I can, it keeps me close to him, connected, a memory physically manifested in my body.

And right now, after what he just did to me, that ache is louder than usual… so much more intense. I can’t help but moan at it as I ease onto my back. He’s on his back as well right beside me, my groan makes him turn his head. “You okay?”

I turn mine toward him and smile. “Yeah. That was intense.”

“Yes it was,” he says taking a deep breath and smiling back at me. “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” I reply with a huff and groan again as I start to get up.

“Nah, I’ll get it. You do whatever you need to do.”

“Okay,” I agree easily. So I plop back down on the bed and it rocks us. He chuckles at me, kisses me, gets up, tosses the condom on the floor, pulls his sweats on and leaves the room. I guess he’s expecting me to pick that up with the other two. I shake my head and huff a laugh.

But I still don’t want to move. I need some time. I feel empty yet full… alone yet not alone. He’s still there, throbbing, aching, slightly burning. I clench my ass together, trying to hold on to it.


	14. Honeymooners, The

The fresh aroma of coffee wafts it’s way up my nose. I breathe it in deeply so it will give me the energy I need to pry myself off this bed. I stretch and yawn then crawl to the side and heave myself up. I’m bent over, grabbing my shorts off the floor, slipping them around my ankles and pulling them up as I stand. A little too quickly, I think because I’m suddenly dizzy and have to grab the edge of the bed to steady myself. Christ, I need some coffee.

I shake it off, lift my arms above my head and stretch out one more time then make my way to the little kitchen area around the corner. He’s sitting at the small, two-seater table up against the window, holding the coffee cup up in the air in one hand, some retreat info in the other. He’s sitting cock-eyed to the table; his legs crossed, just a tad effeminately I might add, his hair sticking up in all directions and flat on one side. Damn, I love morning Brian.

He looks up at me then cracks a mischievous grin. “Someone looks freshly fucked this morning.” My hand that happens to be scratching my balls instinctively goes to my own head and busses my hair around. I’m sure it looks the same as his. I huff and decide to blow it off. I smile back at him. 

I glance to the table and on the opposite side of where he’s sitting is an empty coffee cup that he obviously placed there especially for me. As I pass by him to get there, I drag my hand over his head, he leans into it so I mess his hair up even more. He turns around and grabs the coffee pot off the counter directly behind him and fills my cup then returns the pot to the warmer plate.

Not only am I pretty sure that Brian’s right that I look freshly fucked, I’m feeling like it too. I think this grin is permanently stuck on my face and my giddiness is getting hard to control. All he did was pour me a cup of coffee but that simple gesture makes me grin just the same as if he’d made some magnanimous declaration of undying love or something. A tingle shoots down my back lighting up little goose bumps on my ass. 

The throb throbs and the ache aches. A gentle reminder that, yes, I’m most definitely, freshly fucked, giddy as hell and grinning like a fool.

I pull the chair out, place my hands on the table and ease myself slowly down. My breath hitches in a gasp louder than I meant it to and my shoulders rise up as my sore ass makes contact with the hard, wood surface. They should have padded chairs, I think. A slight hiss escapes my lips when I put all my weight on the chair, my shoulders relax and I reach for my coffee cup. I look up and see that he’s been watching me; he smiles and huffs. I just smile back, again with that goofy grin and he shakes his head, taking another sip of his coffee.

The cup makes it way to my mouth. With the hot ceramic edge of the cup pressed against my lips, I blow into it and breathe in the coffee-flavored steam then take a big drink. It burns all the way down, but that’s exactly what I needed.

“Are you okay?” he asks out of the blue. I look up at him and he seems genuinely concerned.

“More than okay. Why?”

He shrugs slightly and takes another drink of his coffee. “Just checking. You’re little drama routine during the simple task of sitting your ass down in a chair…” his voice trails off and he shakes his head a little. “…I don’t know. Just wanted to make sure.”

“I’m fine, Brian. You know how I love it when you leave your mark on me.” I tease him and grin some more while taking another sip… it spills and I hold it over the table. “Shit!”

He hands me a napkin and chuckles. “It’s not really the same thing though, now is it?”

I wipe off my chin. “Hmm. I guess not. It’s just…”

“It’s just what?” he interrupts quickly.

“It’s just…” I sing-song then continue, “these chairs are kind of hard, don’t ya think? What about you? You sitting pretty this morning?” I ask in that ‘cat-who-just-ate-the-canary’ kind of way. I raise my eyebrows up and back down quickly and shift my eyes around the table to look at his ass. I can’t stop grinning.

He rolls his eyes at me. “I can take anything you dish out, little boy.” I furrow my brows and glare at him. “I… have amazing resilience,” he says emphasizing the ‘I’ as if I don’t. 

“Smartass. I kind of remember you not being able to take it so well last night. Grabbing my hand, to make me to stop. Wimp.”

“Mmmm. Is that so?” He gets up and goes over to the counter. There’s a basket there that I hadn’t noticed before.

“Yeah, that’s so.” I answer softly. I’m a little disinterested in the conversation now since the basket has my curiosity peaked. He flips back the lid, sticks his hand inside and pulls it back out with a bagel in tow. My eyes widen. He turns to me and holds it up with raised eyebrows. I nod so he tosses it to me then reaches in for another one before returning to the table.

With bagels in hands and mouths, our vicious banter comes to a halt. Call that one a draw. Not really worth the points anyway considering it’s all just bullshit. I don’t think there’s anything that one of us could do that the other couldn’t handle. We’re just in sync that way. 

He grabs the pot of coffee and refills his cup then tops off mine. He puts it back and proceeds to add three creamers and five packs of sugar to his cup. He has this whole routine when he drinks his coffee. It’s rather amusing, I think. Add the stuff, then stir, but not in a circle like most people, no, he goes back and forth six or seven times while he’s reading the paper. Then he bangs the spoon on the side of the cup twice then lays it on the saucer, picks up the cup and takes a slurping sip. Of course, he’s not reading the paper today, but otherwise, it’s the same scene.

And he thinks I’m a princess? I drink mine black. Straight up. No fuss. No muss. I pick up a few of the brochures and thumb through them looking for Decadent Dungeon. I’m just curious. I find it. So we read, drink our coffee and eat our bagels while making small talk every now and then. He’s got some ideas forming about the campaign for this place already and he shares them with me. 

I listen as I look at the brochure and can’t help getting excited about all the new things that we could do in that suite, if we were to come back here. He talks about how the ads should capitalize on what the real appeal is and my mind wanders to what, I think, this retreat is really all about. New things. Getting to know each other again. Remembering all the wonderful things that you like about each other without any interference from the outside world. That’s why people come here. That’s the appeal.

His thoughts seem to mirror mine and I start to think about this morning and what Brian did. Makes me wonder. Why something new today? Why this weekend? Why in this place? Did Brian fall victim to its charm emotionally? And did it have an effect on how he feels about me? I lay the brochure down on the table, look up at him and smile.

He feels my stare and glances up. “What?”

“This morning.”

“What about it?” he asks grinning back at me like he’s having a fond memory. I feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks and I roll my eyes. 

“How come we haven’t done that before?” I ask.

He looks me right in the eye then looks out the window. I didn’t think it was a question that would require this much thought. An uncomfortable feeling settles in my back teeth then I realize it’s because I’m clenching my jaw. The grin I’ve been sporting for the last hour finally dissipates. “Brian?” I say to get his attention.

“I wasn’t sure you’d enjoy it,” he answers immediately.

Huh? Why would that answer be so hard to say? “Well, I did,” I tell him matter of factly.

“I figured you would.” He looks at me with a half smile.

“But you just said…”

“Yeah, I know,” he interrupts, cutting me off in mid-sentence. “Before… I wasn’t sure. I was sure this morning.”

“What changed your mind?”

He shrugs. “Seemed like the right time.”

Trying to get a straight answer out of him can be so frustrating sometimes.

“The right time? Why now?”

“Maybe it’s the atmosphere of this place,” he mutters looking out toward the railing and the palm trees.

If he was serious that would probably make my grin come back. But he’s not, so it doesn’t.

“Come on, Brian. You don’t let stuff like this penetrate you. So what’s the real reason?”

He turns back to me, his lips curl up a little because he knows I know him so well, but I don’t smile back. I really want to know so I’m not letting him off the hook with some witty, Brian Kinney idea of a romantic sentiment. He gets the idea.

His lips straighten back up and his eyes soften at me thoughtfully. He takes a deep breath and says, “You had to trust me or the fear would override the pleasure.” His eyes shift to his coffee cup then back to me. “I wanted it to feel good, not scare you.”

“I do trust you, Brian. But like you’ve said before, sometimes it’s the excitement of the unknown that’s the turn on.”

“I know.” His lips curl again and this time, mine curl in response. “And that’s why I thought it was the right time.”

“So then why was trust the issue?”

“There’s a difference between fear of the unknown and anticipation of the unknown. You trusting me removes the fear and just leaves the anticipation. That’s why you were so turned on.”

“So were you.” I grin.

“Mmm… you could say that.” His tongue moves to his cheek and the blush, the giddiness and the goofiness come rushing back and materialize on my face in that stupid grin. 

“I do like that it was here, though.” I smile bigger because I know it was this place. Brian had actually been penetrated here… in more ways than one.

“You would.” He smirks at me so I nudge his leg with my foot under the table.

I pick up my half empty cup and hold it out to him. He retrieves the coffee pot and empties it into my cup then sets it down on the table. I sit back in my chair, pick up the dungeon brochure again and take a big gulp of the coffee with a slow slurping sound.

“How can you drink that shit that way?” 

I look up. He’s looking at me with this disgusted look on his face. Obviously, too much sentiment has taken place for Brian in this conversation so he’s back in snarky mode. I think that’s why we’re good together; we can both take it and know it’s just what it is… it’s just us. I switch gears to play along.

“It’s the way it’s supposed to be drank. With all the cream and god knows how much sugar you put in yours, why bother adding any coffee. I bet you can’t even taste the coffee, can you?”

He stares at me expressionless then cocks an eyebrow. “It makes me sweet,” he says smugly then picks up his cup, takes a really big drink then smacks his lips.

“Hmm, well, the sugar may make you sweet, and you need all the help you can get in that department, we know for sure…” I pause for him to catch up. He sets his cup down, sits back in his chair with his hand dangling limp-wristed off his knee, tilts his head and waits for me to finish. “But…” I continue, “…the added cream just makes you have bad breath.” I wrinkle my nose. “It’s gross.”

“Gross, huh?” My mouth goes kind of crooked and I nod my head. “Well, I don’t recall it ever bothering you before.”

“Eh, it’s just one of the many things I have to put up with.” I give him a smirk and raise my eyebrows.

He stands up, leans over the table, takes my face in his hands, breathes open mouthed in my face, smacks me a kiss right on the lips then releases his hands and grins at me. I push his face away, coughing at his bad breath. “Ewww,” I tease and wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand.

“You little shit,” he scowls and grabs my face again. He kisses me again then licks all over my mouth and my nose and my cheeks, smearing his saliva everywhere. I’m giggling and trying to fight him off… pulling on his fingers with my hands and thrashing my head from one side to the other to get away. The table wobbles between us and makes a screech on the tile floor. He releases me suddenly and sits back down. “Don’t… wipe it off,” he warns, pointing his index finger at me like I’m a child.

I raise my eyebrows in defiance and move my hand to the side of my face. I hold it there, daring him to stop me. His finger waggles and he narrows his eyes into a pointy stare. That shit may work on Gus, but it won’t work on me. I stick my finger out and start wiping along my cheek. He grabs my wrist to make me stop so I start to use my other hand on the other side. He grabs that wrist too. I lean towards him and pucker my lips for a kiss in an act of surrender. He parts his lips just slightly… waiting for me to get there. When I reach his mouth we lock eyes and I kiss him lightly... our noses touching at the tips. 

Then I grin big and by turning my head from side to side, I wipe my face off onto his, smearing his coffee-with three creams and five sugars-flavored saliva all over his cheeks. He releases my wrists abruptly and wipes himself off, growling and glaring at me. The game is on.

I bolt out of the chair, sore ass and all, and take off, around the corner and down the winding staircase. I don’t get much of a head start and he’s hot on my heels. “Fucking little shit,” he yells. 

I take the steps two at a time, but he’s got longer legs so he’s doing it in threes and gaining ground fast.


	15. Honeymooners, The

I jump over the last four steps and dart to the left so I don’t fall into the hot tub that’s placed dangerously too close to the bottom of the stairs. I remember that from yesterday. Unfortunately for Brian, he doesn’t. I hear his feet hit the ground which prompts me to run faster but then I hear him bark, “Fuck!” so I stop right at the edge of the pool and turn around. His feet are on the edge, toes curled over the side and he’s waving his arms frantically trying to regain his balance. I start laughing and that laugh is my undoing. He gets himself together and leers at me and now my few second head start is all but gone. I dive into the pool and swim as fast as I can to get to the other side.

I’m about half way there, still underwater when I hear a muffled splash. Shit! He dove in after me! I kick my feet and windmill my arms harder and faster until my hand hits the slick tiles of the side of the pool on the other side. I dart up to the surface and take a much-needed deep breath of air then move my hands to the edge and hoist myself up.

A strong hand wraps around my ankle and I’m back underwater, fighting to break free. He let’s go after I accidentally kick him and we come up for air, gasping and panting from the excursion. We look over at each other and neither of us gives anything away. I’m still determined and so is he. It’s this strange square-off, but I stir in my shorts watching the water run down the side of his face and drip off his nose. Why, oh why does he have to look so beautiful all the time? Shit. 

He lunges. I splash him to make him back off. He shakes the water off and splashes me back. I close my eyes and wipe my face with my hands. Big mistake ‘cause now there’s hands on the top of my head and I’m being forced down under the water. I try reaching for the side but I miss. He’s holding me down and it’s really starting to piss me off. Those six inches in height he has on me is making this easy for him.

I struggle to get my footing but I can’t seem to get my feet underneath me. I grip his wrist to pull his hand off of me but he holds steadfast. I kick at his legs but he still doesn’t falter. My lungs squeeze, I need air. I panic and find the only thing I can to possibly help my situation. 

I grab the pant legs of his sweats and yank them down. His dick springs out… the fucker is hard. I shake that thought away because the loss of his pants has caused him to release me so I react urgently to reach for the surface. 

Once I catch my breath and wipe the water out of my eyes, I see him throwing his wet-soaked sweats out of the pool. I splash him again shouting, “Fucker!” and I leap onto his back. It knocks him off balance and we both go under, flipping and rolling like a crocodile does when it’s trying to drown its prey. He tries to grab me but I’m behind him. My chest tightens in need of air, I release him, putting my feet on his hips and pushing off to get to the top. 

I gasp for air then hear a splash of water and a gasp from him. I jump away and turn around to face him; my chest still heaving.

He laughs and comes towards me. I back up; my body hits the wall. I reach up to splash him again and he grabs my wrists, slamming them against the tile. “Umph,” I grunt from the impact. 

He presses his whole body against me, his hard dick slipping between my thighs and he covers my mouth with his. His tongue pushes and probes my lips to get inside. 

I resist but it’s so dominating, so forceful, that my cock betrays me and pushes against his belly. A tingle courses through my body. I want him. I give in, open up and suck his tongue inside my mouth like a vacuum. It’s mine now and I’m not giving it back. He struggles and growls but that just makes me suck harder. He may have my body pinned but I’ve got his tongue so I’m winning and he knows it. He lets go of my wrists. 

My arms and legs wrap around him in a tight hug, pulling him closer as I release the suction and push my tongue into his mouth. He grabs my face, I grab the back of his head and we’re kissing and gnawing and panting through our noses. It’s so fucking hot, I’m so fucking turned on, I squeeze my legs, pushing my dick harder into his stomach. 

We’re moaning and groaning like animals, it echoes and bounces off the walls. He pushes my face away and breaks the kiss. He threads his arms through mine and spreads them trying to get me to release him. “Let go.”

“No,” I refuse breathlessly and capture his mouth again. Our tongues battle each other as his hands try to pry my arms and legs loose from around his neck and waist. I fight him and tighten my hold. His fingers dig into the flesh of my upper arms, forcing my muscles into a cramp. I squeeze my eyes shut tight and wince into his mouth. He finally wins and breaks the kiss again. 

I growl at him and tilt my head forward to kiss him, but he turns his head. He pushes my hands against the wall. I grunt. “Stay,” he orders.

“No,” I refuse again and lift my arms. 

He grabs them again and returns them to the wall, laughing. “Just stay, okay?” And before I can protest again, he’s got his fingers hooked in the waistband of my shorts and yanking them down.

I realize now what he’s doing so I quit fighting him and lift my legs so he can take them off of me. He tosses them over my head, the water dripping out onto my face and they sail through the air then land about five feet away with a loud splat. I want to resume our kisses so I reach for him again but he slinks down so fast that I miss his mouth and my lips end up brushing his forehead as he goes underwater.

Two seconds later, my dick is in his mouth. No teasing, no toying with it… he just engulfs the entire thing in one swoop. “Uhhhh,” I gasp, my chest still heaving. I grab onto the ledge and hang on. It’s the weirdest sensation. His tongue is there, his teeth are there, shit, the back of his throat… but there’s a sense of floating and weightlessness to my cock because even though it’s inside him, it’s still surrounded by water. Floating inside his mouth, bobbing against his tongue.

My head lulls back and hits the ledge of the pool. I’m moaning loudly. My fingernails scratch the cement. He slips his tongue into my piss slit, I yelp. He breathes out, bubbles rise to the surface. I’m hungered and crazed and I don’t want him to stop. I hold his head not letting him come up for air. 

His arms snake underneath my legs and he hoists them onto his shoulders. He stands and his head comes up out of the water, my dick in his mouth, my legs wrapped around his neck. He takes one deep breath around the head of my cock then dives back down on me. I fist my hand in his hair. Taking me all the way in, I bump the back of this throat and he swallows around it, compressing it, sending a euphoric spasm up my shaft.

I squeeze and jolt and buck up to meet his bobbing head, riding his shoulders, fucking his face. I pivot my hips in and out of the pool making peaking waves and slapping my ass cheeks on the water. 

“Fuck, yeah,” I moan through clenched teeth. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I want to just scream at him and shout at him, ‘suck my dick!’ but I’m not usually that aggressive with him so I don’t but that doesn’t stop me from shoving it deeper into his mouth. He grunts and constricts his throat. My wild movements almost make him gag.

He grips my hips and pulls off of me so sharply that my dick springs back hard and slaps my belly. He takes it in his hand and pumps it. I reach for his head with my hands, leaving my upper body to teeter on the surface of the water by just my neck against the edge of the pool. I grab his ears and pull. “Suck me!” I demand with a growl.

He pumps harder and hisses through his teeth. “You wanna fuck my face?”

“Yes,” and I tug harder on his ears, his hair, anything I can reach.

He lets go of my dick and bats my hands away then secures his hands on my ass. “Lift up,” he tells me. 

I don’t respond, not sure what he wants me to do. All I want him to do is put my cock back in his mouth, damn it. 

“No! Suck me off!” I shout, pulling on his head and thrusting up in his face. 

“Up! Go!” he barks, lifting me up higher and pushing against my body. The rough cement on the edge of the pool starts scraping my shoulder blades. 

“Ahhh,” I yell. It hurts and burns but I get the idea now. He’s trying to get me out of the water. I palm the cement and help him hoist me out.

I collapse on my back, the stinging from the scrape still pulsing on my skin, but I don’t care because he’s back on my dick. Attacking it with a ferociousness that excites me all over again. I plant my feet on the ledge and buck up into his mouth. He lets me so I move faster and faster, deeper and deeper. Bumping the back of his throat with each thrust. His spit is dripping down my shaft making it slicker and slicker. I’m so on fire and feel totally out of control.

He takes my balls in his hand, kneads them, rolls them. Oh shit. I pull out to shallow movements; his breaths are loud and wet through his nose. He points his tongue and it bumps my slit with each thrusts. I slow and jab at his teeth, just a little. The sharp jolts of pain shoot through my body. “Jerk me, suck me, make me cum,” I order him.

He wraps his fist around me and tightens his lips around the head. I started moving my hips again, up and down. Then faster and faster. He’s sucking on the tip swirling his tongue all around the outside while his hand slides along my shaft. I’m reaching the peak. I grip his head on both sides and hold him still. “Faster,” I mutter, more for myself than for him since I’m the one controlling the movements.

It doesn’t take much longer before I’m moaning incoherently at the pressure building up in my balls. I let loose, shooting stream after stream into his mouth. I pull his hair and shove my dick as far as it will go with his hand in the way as the orgasm rips through my body. I tense and arch my back; a grunt escapes from my throat. He hums as he drinks me and it sounds like ‘um huh’ over and over… I guess his way of screaming yes with his mouth full. But he takes it all, every last drop then I release my grip and he pulls away, allowing my dick to slip from his mouth and plop on my stomach.

My legs flop open and my arms splay across the cement. My whole body goes limp as a wet noodle. I’m spent and tired. My heart’s pounding and my breathing’s ragged. 

“Ahhh, that was soooo great,” I sigh. “I’m wasted.” 

He puts his hands against the back of my knees and pushes my legs up. I grunt at suddenly being folded in half. Then yelp when he bites my ass. It hurts and I try to buck my hips away, but I can’t; I have no strength at all. He lets go of one leg and pushes higher on the other, tilting my body to the side. He swats the exposed cheek, hard, with one hell of a stinging slap. 

“Ow!” I scream. “What’d you do that for?”

“Animal. You deserve it.” Then he pinches the sensitive part at the back of my leg. Pinches it just as hard as he bit me and slapped me. I yelp and jerk away.

“Ow, damn it. Stop!”

“Thought you wanted it rough. You like it rough, little boy?” He swats me again with another stinging slap.

My ass is burning and it gives me newfound power. “Fuck! Stop!” I bolt upright, glaring at him, ready to wage war. He’s looking at me, smiling. “I’ll show you rough,” I tell him and I slap him across the face.

He grabs my wrist and laughs so I lean down and kiss him… tenderly and soft. I pull away but keep our foreheads pressed together. “Thank you,” I whisper against his face.

“Your welcome,” he whispers back.

“You can stop with the hurting me stuff now.” I give him a weak smile and kiss him one more time then collapse back down on the ground. The raw scrapes sting again and I wince at the pain.

He tilts me to the side and pours handfuls of pool water on my stinging ass cheek then kisses it lightly and rolls me back flat. He folds his arms on top of my legs and lays his head on top of his arms. I hook my feet around his back and comb my fingers through his hair. He’s kind of floating on his stomach, kicking his feet in the water behind him. 

After a few moments of silence, I hear him sigh a deep breath. “We have to leave in two hours.” 

I know, but I certainly wasn’t ready to be reminded just yet.


	16. Honeymooners, The

I sit up and smile at him. There’s just one more thing we have to do, or actually that he has to do before we leave here. I’m hoping he says yes, but I’m prepared to argue on this because I’m sure he’ll say no. 

“I want you to go down the slide.”

“Are you out of your mind?” he asks, his voice almost squelching. He’s shocked, disgusted and really looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“No, it’s fun.” I give him a big grin and wiggle my eyebrows.

“Says who?”

“Says me. Come on, Brian. When will you ever be in a place like this again? Private pool, private slide.” I cup his face in my hands and lean down to his then whisper, “No one will know. I promise I won’t tell.”

“Give me a break.” He spreads his hand over my face and pushes me away. I hate that.

“Be a kid again, Brian. You’re too uptight about maintaining your ‘image’.” He glares at me but I continue. “You don’t have to do that with me. Let loose a little.” I tap my finger on his nose.

“I prefer tight, thank you very much.” I give him an exasperated look and his face changes. I think he’s just now realizing that I’m dead serious. I really do want him to do this. He furrows his eyebrows and gets a little crease above the bridge of his nose. “Are you twelve?” he asks and I roll my eyes at him. Now I’m disgusted. “‘Cause if you are, I don’t like what that makes me.”

“Makes you no fun, is what it makes you.” I cover his face with my hand and push him away. He jerks his head back. I don’t think he likes it either.

“Hey, I’m fun!”

“Oh, please. When was the last time you did anything remotely resembling having a good time.”

“A minute ago, this morning, last night, all day yesterday,” he says in a sexy voice as he taps the tip of my dick with his finger.

“I’m not talking about sex, Brian.” And I remove his finger. “What happened to you wanting me to enjoy my youth and you wanting to recapture yours? Hmmm? This is your chance.”

“High school and college youth, not grade school.”

“Ahhh Brian, come on,” I say rolling my eyes. “This is an adult retreat, that slide is not there for kids. It’s for adults, like us. It’ll be fun. I promise. And you never know, you might just actually enjoy yourself.”

“I’m enjoying myself now.” He rubs my legs with his hands. I brush the side of his face and play with his hair.

“Please.” I’m not above begging. I really want this. It would be one of those priceless moments from the commercial. You know, weekend getaway, $1000; box of condoms, $19.99; Brian Kinney going down a slide and enjoying it … priceless.

“No,” he says firmly then looks down and plays with the downy hair just below my navel.

I cup his face again and make him look at me. “I’ll go down with you,” I sing-song the offering with a grin.

He pulls his head out of my grasp. “Justin, I don’t need you to hold my hand. I’m not scared, it’s just stupid.”

“I wasn’t offering to hold your hand.” I blink my eyelids slowly and kiss the tip of his nose.

“Well, what were you offering then? Please enlighten me with your devilish scheme.” He pulls his lips in and raises his eyebrows, waiting for my answer.

“I’ll sit on your lap and we’ll go down, you know…” I lean in close to his ear and whisper, “… together,” then nibble on the dangling piece of flesh. 

One eyebrow falls, the other one stays up and arches higher. He’s intrigued. “That has possibilities.” His lips smush to the side.

“Then you’ll do it?” A big smile across my face and I’m practically jumping up and down inside my head.

“I didn’t say that.” Asshole. What is with him, anyhow? “Besides, aren’t you a little, um, you know… from earlier. I prefer tight, remember?” 

Major asshole today. Not only is he making fun of me not wanting to just spell it out that I meant we’d go down with his dick up my ass but he thinks he can poke jabs at the elasticity of said ass as well? I don’t think so.

“Uh!” I exclaim then punch his arm. He smirks so I straighten my face. 

“I bounce back quickly. Don’t you think?” I ask as if I’m really hurt by his remark. 

“Ahhh,” he patronizes me. 

“I’m young,” I add with a puckered lip. I lock eyes with his to make sure I have his attention then glance towards his hair and I squint, pretending to see something then I scrunch up my face in disgust. I reach, grab a stray hair and pluck it out. 

“Ow, you shit. What’d you do that for?” He rubs his head where I pulled the hair out and I hold it out to the side then twiddle my fingers to let it float away.

“Oh, nothing.” I let out a deep sigh and shake my head. “But I guess you’re right. You’re too old to be amused by such childish things as sliding down a slide or playing in a pool. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Of course, he was just playing in a pool.

“That was not a gray hair you pulled out, you little shit.”

“I never said it was.” I shrug my shoulders.

“You’re tenacious, you know that?”

“Mmm, I’ve been known to be. You should know better than anybody; I don’t give up until I get what I want.”

“So, there’s really no point in me fighting it, is there?”

“Nope,” I answer smugly.

He takes a deep breath and lets out a big sigh. “Finnnne.” He gives in rolling his eyes.

I scream with joy, grab his face and give him a big vocal kiss, “Mwuah. Come on, come on.” I push him off my lap and scramble to my feet, reaching my hand out to pull him out of the pool. He bats my hand away but I hold it in place, he finally takes it and hoists himself out of the pool with my help. 

“Go get the stuff ‘cause I intend to take you up on your offer.”

I grin and kiss him again. “You got it!”

He swats my ass, turns me around and pushes on my shoulders. “Go.”

I take off up the winding staircase and along the railing to the bedroom. I look over the balcony and see Brian picking up his sweats and my shorts and ringing them out, holding them over the side of the pool. “Come on,” I tell him.

He looks up at me, scrunches his face and juts his head out and back in a way that says, ‘I’m coming’ so I grin and go to the bedroom to retrieve the lube and condoms. 

When I come back out, he’s there, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

I laugh, take his hand and drag him toward the slide. “Get over yourself. You’re doing it.”

Once we get there, I let go of his hand and give him the condom. He looks at it then back at me. “Umm, I don’t think I’m quite ready for this yet.” He holds his hands out and points. 

I glance down; he’s still somewhat flaccid… I giggle. “You will be. Watch… and… learn.” I wiggle my eyebrows, hold up the lube so he sees it then pop the top open. I squeeze a generous amount in my other hand, toss it aside, take a few steps back, turn around, widen my stance and bend over putting my ass on display for him. I hear a rumble in his throat and I smile; I’ve definitely got his attention. 

I reach underneath me and start working the lube into me. By the time I’ve got the second finger added I hear the tear of the condom wrapper. I bend over further so I can see him from between my legs. I watch him slip it on upside down. It never matters how I see that act, there’s just something about the site of him preparing himself to come get me that just really turns me on. I’m assuming that him watching me lube myself has the same effect on him. It’s fucking hot, there’s no other way to describe it.

He takes a step toward me and his hands go to my hips. I pull my fingers out, stand up and turn around. “Nuh, uh, uh,” I sing-song a little dizzily and reach for his shoulder to steady myself. He growls. I move behind him and push him to the entrance of the slide. “Get on and sit down.”

He does and I crawl onto his lap, facing him and straddling his thighs. I lean down and we kiss while his hand slips under my balls to hold his cock up and steady. I wiggle my hips around until I feel the tip of his cock poking at my hole then I slide down and he pulls his hand away to steady my hips. 

I pause when his head breaks through, wincing with a quiet whimper since I’m still a tad sore. He deepens the kiss to make it better and rubs his hands on my lower back. It works and I bury him the rest of the way as my mind drifts to another place just like it always does. He breaks the kiss and looks at me. My eyelids are droopy and I’m in a daze. I love this feeling… when he’s deep inside me. I can’t help but zone out for a moment.

“You okay?”

I don’t answer, I just start riding him nice and slow. 

“Hey,” he says to get my attention, making sure I’m still with him. 

I look at him and smile. “Push off when we’re about to cum and we’ll orgasm on the way down. Okay?” He nods and we kiss. Slow and sensual, building to fast and frenzied. We part the kiss breathing harder than when we started. 

We lock our eyes and watch the other get into it, enjoying it, getting there; reaching that place. I stop riding him and cross my legs behind his back; he takes over, lifting my hips and lowering me back down. I clench my ass on the down stroke and he hisses. 

I hold onto his shoulder with one hand and start fisting myself with the other. I pump my cock against his belly. The muscles are clenched and taut from his excursion of lifting me up and down… I feel the ripples bumping against my knuckles. If it weren’t for the slapping sounds of my hand on my dick and my ass on his, I’d swear that rub would make rhythmic music like the rumblings of a washboard.

He smiles at me; he’s enjoying himself and I couldn’t be happier. I smile back and lick my lips. I move my hand to his upper arm. His bicep bulges and flexes underneath my grasp. I like it. I’m getting closer and closer. He bounces me a little harder. My balls tighten, I breathe in heavy making a hissing sound through my teeth and I give him a piercing stare. He sees it, he knows. 

“Yeah, come on,” he says in a lusty, throaty voice. He grips my ass, moving me faster and faster. I try to stay focused but I can’t, my eyes cross and now I’m looking at two of him.

“Brian…” I breathe. 

“Let it go,” he tells me then he covers my mouth with his and pushes off. We’re kissing and cumming as we fly through the air. I hold on, wrapping my one arm around his neck and locking my ankles in place behind him. The first spurt flies out of my slit in mid-flight, the second as we splash down, the third, underwater. He holds me tight so we don’t break apart. 

There’s cold water all around me but as he cums, hot molten lava warms up the inside of my ass. I shiver and shake… he jolts and jerks. We hit the bottom of the pool, our bodies flip over and we float to the surface. He gets his footing, stands up and takes two stumbling steps backward to the pool stairs, collapsing with me still on his lap.

He lets go of me and smooths his wet hair back out of his face then does the same to me. “Fuck,” he croaks, his chest heaving.

“Hot, huh?” I say, grinning and giddy and goofy.

He looks at me with that look of regard. “Yes. Okay? Yes,” he admits defeated. I kiss him just because. He breaks away and leans back so he can see my whole face. He places his hands on either side of my face. “We gotta go.”

“Ohhhhh, I don’t wanna go.” I teasingly whine and he sort of chuckles.

“Come on,” he says and pushes on my thighs. He holds the condom while I lift up. I slink onto the stair next to him and he gets out of the pool. He sticks his hand out to help me; I start to bat it away, but I don’t, I take it and let him pull me out. “I have to go meet with Mr. Martin before we leave. Can you get our stuff together?” He’s walking away from me toward the winding staircase. 

“Yeah.” I bend over to pick up the condom and head into the bathroom to get my sweats from yesterday.

“Hey, Justin,” he calls out from a distance.

I come out of the bathroom to find him leaning over the railing upstairs. “What?”

“Thanks,” he says with a smile.

“Thanks for what, Brian?” I ask to torture him and make him spell it out. I want him to admit he liked the slide because I know damn well he did.

“For being a tenacious brat.” 

Hmpf, just what I thought. “Your welcome,” I grin.


	17. Honeymooners, The

Lots of special thanks for this entire story: Obviously to Michelle for the bunny. To AnnieK for the link to the retreat. To Jammer for showing me the way to the slide. To Maureen for describing the effects of a waterbed to me- thank you for sharing, I know it was hard. *wink* To Lisa for such amazing support and undying encouragement - you really feed my obsession like you wouldn't believe. And to Cindy for fixing my boo-boo’s and in this one, drawing my attention to something that could have greatly effected one of the more important scenes. I thank you big time for that.

* * *

We get dressed and he gathers the brochures on the table. He called for Chad to come and get him and he’s there by the time Brian is ready to go. He kisses me, says he’ll send Chad back for me in a little bit and heads toward the door. I wish him good luck then quickly add that he doesn’t need it. He smiles back and shuts the door. 

I run around the suite with a trashcan disposing of used condoms then pack all of our stuff, putting our wet clothes in plastic bags before stuffing them in our suitcases. I was so busy that the hour flew by and Chad’s knocking on the door. I open it and he takes our bags. I follow him out and get in the golf cart. We make small talk. He asks if I enjoyed it, I said yes and before we know it we’re pulling up next to the ‘vette and Brian is already there. He’s smiling… that’s a good sign.

Chad unloads our bags and says his goodbyes. Brian closes the lid to the trunk and looks at me. 

“You get it?” I ask.

“Of course,” he answers smugly with his Cheshire cat grin.

I smile back at him and move to get in the car. He grabs the back of my pants and pulls me to him. I turn around and he kisses me. A passionate kiss… the kind I get lost in with tangling tongues and heavy breaths. I hum into his mouth and wrap my arms around him, kneading his back and his shoulder blades. 

His hands go to my head, playing in my hair. We’re both lost, I lean against him, he stumbles and our bodies crash against the car, but we don’t break the kiss, we just ‘hrmph’ and keep kissing. The hairs on my legs stand up and chills march up my back. It just feels so good… I love kissing him.

After a few minutes, he reluctantly pulls away and I moan. “Damn,” we say together at the same time and that heat flushes across my cheeks in a blush. I blink twice because I think my mind’s playing tricks on me. I could have sworn that his cheeks turned a little pink, just for a second.

I kiss his neck and let out a chuckle. I push off of him and wipe my saliva off his lips then lick my fingers. That always gets him.

“Don’t,” he says shaking his head.

“Don’t what?” I tease. He pushes me toward the car door and walks around to the other side. We open our doors at the same time and watch each other as we get in. We’re both smiling.

Doors shut, seatbelts fasten and with the turn of a key, the engine roars to life signaling the end of our weekend.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

He puts his right hand on the back of my seat and cranes his neck around to see out the rear window so he can back the ‘vette out of the parking spot. He steps on the gas and swings the car out into the driveway, then pauses to kiss me before he turns back around and slips the gear stick into ‘drive’. We smile at each other kind of goofily and I flash back to a time when my family went on vacation to St. Louis for my parent’s tenth wedding anniversary. We were leaving the hotel and my dad turned around the same way, kissed my mom just like Brian kissed me and they smiled at each other with these goofy looking grins then turned around and looked at me and Molly. I was probably only about nine at the time and I distinctively remember thinking, ‘Ewww’ and ‘Give me a break’. 

And now, here I am in this weird, cosmic, deja-vu moment and I’m not thinking ‘Ewww’ or ‘Give me a break’… I’m thinking… this is right… I like it… oh, I don’t know what I’m thinking…

We start off down the dirt road to get back to the highway and Brian informs me that he’s going to have to wash the car when we get back. I don’t comment; the current state of his precious classic automobile is the last thing on my mind right now. I’m looking out the window, watching us get further and further away from the retreat and I’m really kind of sad. We didn’t do anything remotely resembling an adventure like skydiving or snowboarding or seeing one of the Seven Wonders of the World, but I had a good time. 

I’m going to miss it. No pressure from the outside world. No political wars to fight against. No family problems to deal with. No money or career or school issues to face. Just me and Brian. Alone, together. It was just a business trip. But it wasn’t.

“You’re pouting,” he says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“I’m not pouting,” I snap back on the defensive. There is nothing wrong with feeling whatever you feel about things, but for some reason, Brian always makes me feel like what I’m feeling is wrong. Or a bad thing. Or stupid. Or something. I am sad, but pouting? Nuh uh.

“Are so.”

“I had a good time,” I tell him as if that would explain my mood.

“You did?”

Uh! Couldn’t he tell? Ah, he frustrates me sometimes. “Yeah! Didn’t you?” And he better not lie. 

He gives off a long sigh. “I guess.”

That annoyance that I feel about him sometimes creeps up again. I know he had a good time and I hate that he can’t or won’t admit it. I shake my head and turn back to face the side window. I just don’t want to deal with him right now.

“Hey.”

I continue to not face him and in a very disinterested sounding voice, I answer, “What?”

“Here.” I turn to see and he’s holding out a small piece of paper. I take it from him.

“What is it?”

He shrugs his shoulders but doesn’t look at me. He’s driving which means his eyes are watching the road. As usual. I open it reluctantly and find the retreat’s logo across the top. Right under their name the word CONFIRMATION is written in all capital letters. I shift my eyes to him and he’s grinning.

“I thought maybe you’d like to go back.”

“I would,” I practically beam, giving him one of my big smiles. “What about you? You wanna go back?”

He half shrugs. “I figure, why not? It wasn’t overly syrupy and romantic. I’m still alive, so it didn’t kill me.”

I knew he had a good time! “And your dick didn’t fall off either,” I say sarcastically. He huffs. 

“So what are we going to do next time? I mean, you know, you can only have one honeymooooon.” I let the ‘moon’ part pucker up my lips as I draw it out in a croon-like, sexy kind of way. He glances at me with his usual disapproving frown. I laugh and decide to quit pestering him. I’m just happy that he wanted to go back of his own free will. Not for a business trip, but because he wanted to spend time, like this, with me. I quickly ask, “Decadent Dungeon?” while wiggling my eyebrows. I already know that’s what it is.

“No, uh uh,” he shakes his head and my jaw drops open. “I was thinking more along the lines of the Barbie one.”

“You were not,” I tell him laughing and rolling my eyes. 

He looks over at me in confusion. “No, I was.” I’m shocked and can’t think of anything to say. He continues, “She’s blond…” he pauses and looks at me. “…like you.” I furrow my eyebrows and give him a scowl. “And I’d make a good Ken. Don’t you think? Good-looking, successful.”

Okay, he had me going there for a minute. He’s kidding. “And now who’s full of themselves?” I ask. I wait for a smile or a grin or something. I don’t get one. “Stop it! You’re freaking me out.” I’m not laughing anymore and I’m still waiting for him to cave. He shrugs his shoulder. My smile fades. Still nothing. “No fucking way! I am not playing Barbie and Ken with you!” I panic and turn back to the reservation slip in my hand.

It says, DD-1. A feeling of relief washes over my body. “Yeah, right. Asshole.” I punch his arm. Then, finally, he laughs.

I read the rest of it and I see the date. It’s this same weekend only next year. I’m a little bummed that we have to wait a whole year before we come back but then it hits me and I smile so big my cheeks hurt.

“Brian?” I’m about to bust wide open.

“Hmmm?”

“It’s the same time next year.”

“Wasn’t that a movie? Neil Simon, I think.”

Oh, he’s so annoying! “Yes. No. Errr, I don’t know.” I’m shaking my head and waving my hand in the air. “That’s beside the point.”

“And what’s the point?” He waves his hand in the air just like I did. I bat it away then lean my head back against the headrest and look at him. 

“The point is… it’s for the same time next year. This same weekend.”

“Really?” He shrugs his shoulder again, half-heartedly, and moves his head around in small circles like he’s clueless. He’s not clueless. “I didn’t notice.”

“Yes, you did.”

His lips join in on the rest of his facial features, trying to throw me off. They push out and pull in and push out. He licks them. I don’t buy it. Not for one second.

“And what’s the significance of it being the same weekend?” he asks, straight face, looking straight ahead.

He’s baiting me. “The significance is…” His eyebrows go up in anticipation of my predictable response. “…it’s the same time next year. Duh. Like, we have an anniversary now.”

His eyes shift my way just for a second then return to the highway ahead of us. “Don’t,” he says in a fake menacing tone. Uh huh.

“Don’t what?” I ask in response, like I always do. I blink my eyes at him. 

He ignores it and lets it drop. After a minute or two he breaks the silence. “Anniversary, huh?” he asks trying to be innocent.

“Yep,” I answer smugly. 

His lips curl up just a little on the sides. He’s cracking. I move my hand wanting to touch him. 

My fingers walk around the gear stick, across the edge of his seat, up the side of his leg and over his thigh… slowly and determinedly making their way towards… His hand comes off the steering wheel and connects with the back of my hand with a hard smack. I jerk it away in retreat and let out a huff, but I still have a smile on my face. 

“We need to get a new car,” I tell him matter-of-factly. His smile gets bigger. I turn back to face the front and watch the road in front of us. The highway markers breeze by in a blur. I count them or try to count them. “Maybe a Hummer,” I think out loud. I hear him laugh.

His hand reaches across the center console and rests on my thigh. I glance at the dashboard clock. It’s only been seven minutes since we pulled onto the highway. That is definitely a new record.

* * *

link to the retreat used in the story:

http://www.sybaris.com/frameset.html

Once you go in, click on Suites/Rates, then you’ll see all the types of suites available…for this story, I loosely used the “Deluxe Swimming Pool Suite” and “The Chalet Suite” and then changed them around for what I needed… my suite was more of a two-story so the slide would have been much higher than what it appears in these suites… but anyway, you get the idea…


End file.
